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Cary Club minutes, 1899-1918
Page 29
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In previous memory of our sister Mrs M. J. Hindman. Who was called home February 22 - 1901. In those far fields, where she we loved doeth dwell. There falls no night nor pain. Nor showaw of regret: But love and joy, and peace, enfold her sound. and she hath rest. In that fair clime where it is always morn. This sainted one of blessed memory, whose prsence cheered us but a few short weeks ago. is now companion of the angel bands who walk with God. For such as she there is no death, the gift of life is hers in larger sense than we, who call her dead can know, hers is the life that never ends. The gift of gifts. We mourn indeed the broken home the life work left undone. The hopes abandoned on a bed of pain. The protest of our aching hearts. Voices itself in tears. The strength and sweetness of that fragrant life, rebukes our murmurings. She had no idle hours, no work of hers was left undone. The measure from her hand was allways full. "Pressed down and running over."
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In previous memory of our sister Mrs M. J. Hindman. Who was called home February 22 - 1901. In those far fields, where she we loved doeth dwell. There falls no night nor pain. Nor showaw of regret: But love and joy, and peace, enfold her sound. and she hath rest. In that fair clime where it is always morn. This sainted one of blessed memory, whose prsence cheered us but a few short weeks ago. is now companion of the angel bands who walk with God. For such as she there is no death, the gift of life is hers in larger sense than we, who call her dead can know, hers is the life that never ends. The gift of gifts. We mourn indeed the broken home the life work left undone. The hopes abandoned on a bed of pain. The protest of our aching hearts. Voices itself in tears. The strength and sweetness of that fragrant life, rebukes our murmurings. She had no idle hours, no work of hers was left undone. The measure from her hand was allways full. "Pressed down and running over."
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries
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