The Gloucester Gazette (Gloucester, Va.),
Thu, 9 Sep 1920, p3, c4
In Memorium
Adelaide Willett Booker
That impartial visitor, the angel of "Death," came into our home on the evening of July 29th, 1920, and claimed as his victim are precious wife and mother, Adelaide Willett Booker, and oh! how vacant is the old home and how our hearts ache and long for the presence of "mother" who is no more. As a wife she was unexcelled and likewise as a mother no load of grief or sorrow was so heavy but that she couldn't brighten it for us, who were so dear to her, and now that she has gone there is a vacancy that no earthly power can fill, so merciful God it is to Thee we look for comfort and grace to sustain us through this dark hour. Thee oh God the same God that our sainted mother trusted in and looked to for deliverance from the writer's recollection, and we pray Thee to help us each to say witjh a willing heart "Thy will be done." She cannot come back to us but oh what a comfort to know that we can go to her, and often when I sit and wait from the awful grief and loneliness that only the motherless can feel, I can almost fancy I can see her looking from her heavenly home down on those that were dear to her, and further fancy that is she is looking forward to the time when we should all join her there where parting is unknown. She leaves to mourn their loss her beloved husband, R. C. Booker, and six children: Thomas Carey and C. M. Booker, of Ordinary; Mrs. L. M. Shipley and Mrs L. W. Kemp, of Baltimore; and Mrs. Frank Bristow and Miss Reda Booker, of New Upton, Va.
I call her name; she answers not;
Her chair stands lone beside the shadowy heart;
An awful silence smites my trembling heart
With fear; an emptiness that drives me mad.
She must be here, her fragrance lingers 'round;
But when I seek her room, she is not there.
Gone? My mother gone, no more to come?
My life's companion and my childhood's friend,
The one of all whose love remained the same
Through fickle youth and tried maturity,
Whose patience with my weakness was so great
As was her pure, unselfish love - My mother gone?
Oh mother, mother, how I miss you, dear!
I bow my weary head upon your chair,
I want to kneel and pray with you once more
And feel your hand in blessing on my head.
Oh, God, my mother's God, I turn to thee!
To whom else shall I go this hour?
Thou hast the words of everlasting life.
"As one his mother comforted
So I will comfort you."
Thy promise, Lord, I claim.
Uphold me in thine everlasting arms,
And may we each live up to the morals
Of her Godly teaching.
~~Her loving husband and children.
Thu, 9 Sep 1920, p3, c4
In Memorium
Adelaide Willett Booker
That impartial visitor, the angel of "Death," came into our home on the evening of July 29th, 1920, and claimed as his victim are precious wife and mother, Adelaide Willett Booker, and oh! how vacant is the old home and how our hearts ache and long for the presence of "mother" who is no more. As a wife she was unexcelled and likewise as a mother no load of grief or sorrow was so heavy but that she couldn't brighten it for us, who were so dear to her, and now that she has gone there is a vacancy that no earthly power can fill, so merciful God it is to Thee we look for comfort and grace to sustain us through this dark hour. Thee oh God the same God that our sainted mother trusted in and looked to for deliverance from the writer's recollection, and we pray Thee to help us each to say witjh a willing heart "Thy will be done." She cannot come back to us but oh what a comfort to know that we can go to her, and often when I sit and wait from the awful grief and loneliness that only the motherless can feel, I can almost fancy I can see her looking from her heavenly home down on those that were dear to her, and further fancy that is she is looking forward to the time when we should all join her there where parting is unknown. She leaves to mourn their loss her beloved husband, R. C. Booker, and six children: Thomas Carey and C. M. Booker, of Ordinary; Mrs. L. M. Shipley and Mrs L. W. Kemp, of Baltimore; and Mrs. Frank Bristow and Miss Reda Booker, of New Upton, Va.
I call her name; she answers not;
Her chair stands lone beside the shadowy heart;
An awful silence smites my trembling heart
With fear; an emptiness that drives me mad.
She must be here, her fragrance lingers 'round;
But when I seek her room, she is not there.
Gone? My mother gone, no more to come?
My life's companion and my childhood's friend,
The one of all whose love remained the same
Through fickle youth and tried maturity,
Whose patience with my weakness was so great
As was her pure, unselfish love - My mother gone?
Oh mother, mother, how I miss you, dear!
I bow my weary head upon your chair,
I want to kneel and pray with you once more
And feel your hand in blessing on my head.
Oh, God, my mother's God, I turn to thee!
To whom else shall I go this hour?
Thou hast the words of everlasting life.
"As one his mother comforted
So I will comfort you."
Thy promise, Lord, I claim.
Uphold me in thine everlasting arms,
And may we each live up to the morals
Of her Godly teaching.
~~Her loving husband and children.
The Gloucester Gazette (Gloucester, Va.),
Thu, 9 Sep 1920, p3, c4
In Memorium
Adelaide Willett Booker
That impartial visitor, the angel of "Death," came into our home on the evening of July 29th, 1920, and claimed as his victim are precious wife and mother, Adelaide Willett Booker, and oh! how vacant is the old home and how our hearts ache and long for the presence of "mother" who is no more. As a wife she was unexcelled and likewise as a mother no load of grief or sorrow was so heavy but that she couldn't brighten it for us, who were so dear to her, and now that she has gone there is a vacancy that no earthly power can fill, so merciful God it is to Thee we look for comfort and grace to sustain us through this dark hour. Thee oh God the same God that our sainted mother trusted in and looked to for deliverance from the writer's recollection, and we pray Thee to help us each to say witjh a willing heart "Thy will be done." She cannot come back to us but oh what a comfort to know that we can go to her, and often when I sit and wait from the awful grief and loneliness that only the motherless can feel, I can almost fancy I can see her looking from her heavenly home down on those that were dear to her, and further fancy that is she is looking forward to the time when we should all join her there where parting is unknown. She leaves to mourn their loss her beloved husband, R. C. Booker, and six children: Thomas Carey and C. M. Booker, of Ordinary; Mrs. L. M. Shipley and Mrs L. W. Kemp, of Baltimore; and Mrs. Frank Bristow and Miss Reda Booker, of New Upton, Va.
I call her name; she answers not;
Her chair stands lone beside the shadowy heart;
An awful silence smites my trembling heart
With fear; an emptiness that drives me mad.
She must be here, her fragrance lingers 'round;
But when I seek her room, she is not there.
Gone? My mother gone, no more to come?
My life's companion and my childhood's friend,
The one of all whose love remained the same
Through fickle youth and tried maturity,
Whose patience with my weakness was so great
As was her pure, unselfish love - My mother gone?
Oh mother, mother, how I miss you, dear!
I bow my weary head upon your chair,
I want to kneel and pray with you once more
And feel your hand in blessing on my head.
Oh, God, my mother's God, I turn to thee!
To whom else shall I go this hour?
Thou hast the words of everlasting life.
"As one his mother comforted
So I will comfort you."
Thy promise, Lord, I claim.
Uphold me in thine everlasting arms,
And may we each live up to the morals
Of her Godly teaching.
~~Her loving husband and children.
Thu, 9 Sep 1920, p3, c4
In Memorium
Adelaide Willett Booker
That impartial visitor, the angel of "Death," came into our home on the evening of July 29th, 1920, and claimed as his victim are precious wife and mother, Adelaide Willett Booker, and oh! how vacant is the old home and how our hearts ache and long for the presence of "mother" who is no more. As a wife she was unexcelled and likewise as a mother no load of grief or sorrow was so heavy but that she couldn't brighten it for us, who were so dear to her, and now that she has gone there is a vacancy that no earthly power can fill, so merciful God it is to Thee we look for comfort and grace to sustain us through this dark hour. Thee oh God the same God that our sainted mother trusted in and looked to for deliverance from the writer's recollection, and we pray Thee to help us each to say witjh a willing heart "Thy will be done." She cannot come back to us but oh what a comfort to know that we can go to her, and often when I sit and wait from the awful grief and loneliness that only the motherless can feel, I can almost fancy I can see her looking from her heavenly home down on those that were dear to her, and further fancy that is she is looking forward to the time when we should all join her there where parting is unknown. She leaves to mourn their loss her beloved husband, R. C. Booker, and six children: Thomas Carey and C. M. Booker, of Ordinary; Mrs. L. M. Shipley and Mrs L. W. Kemp, of Baltimore; and Mrs. Frank Bristow and Miss Reda Booker, of New Upton, Va.
I call her name; she answers not;
Her chair stands lone beside the shadowy heart;
An awful silence smites my trembling heart
With fear; an emptiness that drives me mad.
She must be here, her fragrance lingers 'round;
But when I seek her room, she is not there.
Gone? My mother gone, no more to come?
My life's companion and my childhood's friend,
The one of all whose love remained the same
Through fickle youth and tried maturity,
Whose patience with my weakness was so great
As was her pure, unselfish love - My mother gone?
Oh mother, mother, how I miss you, dear!
I bow my weary head upon your chair,
I want to kneel and pray with you once more
And feel your hand in blessing on my head.
Oh, God, my mother's God, I turn to thee!
To whom else shall I go this hour?
Thou hast the words of everlasting life.
"As one his mother comforted
So I will comfort you."
Thy promise, Lord, I claim.
Uphold me in thine everlasting arms,
And may we each live up to the morals
Of her Godly teaching.
~~Her loving husband and children.
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