The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1890-07-09
Obituary.

Obituary.
PAGE,-Martha NJ, wife of Hon. John A.
Page of Montpelier (whose death on the lst
instant was announced last week., was the
daughter of Uriah Ward ESQ. of Haverhill
n. H., and born December 20, 1915. Sep
tember 4, 1899, she was married to Mr.. John
A. Page, also of Haverhill where they re-
sided until the spring of 1914, when they re-
moved to Danvile, VT, whence they came
to Montpelier in 1S49, which has since been
their home Mrs. Page was possessed of
stronglydetined characteristics. A natural
inclination to reserve was modified by
marked dignity and grace of manner, clear
intellect, warm heart and liberal hand.
For more than half century she was a
most worthy helpmeet of her honored hus-
band in all the departments of life-in her
home, in society in the church of their
adoption, and in the manifold charities of
the day. Twenty-Five years since disease,
in the form of rheumatism besieged her
system, and despite all the heroic resist
ance afforded by splendid constitution
and an ndOmitable will, supplemented by
repeated changes of climate and the best
medical skill the country afforded, the re-
lentless invader steadily pressed the siege
until the citadel of life finally surrendered
The last few years, and especially months,
were marked by the most excruciating suf-
fering, so that at intervals reason was
driven from her throne; but as the end ap-
preached the dark pail of suffering was
mercifully lifted, and the sweet angel of
peace, rest and trust appeared to gently
lead her through the dark valley. OF two
sons, one-John Ward-survives, who, with
his wife, left his chosen western home at
the call of his aged parents.
The funeral obsequies of Mrs. Page were
observed at the family residence on State
street on the afternoon of July 3, conducted
by Rev. G. w. Gallagher, the family pastor,
hut. g,f
An Indian legend tells a story that has
much truth in its natural figures. The medi-
cine man of the tribe was seen gathering
leaves from the forest trees and carefully
preserving them. :" Why do you gather
these leaves, Sage" inquired the chief,
whose name was Sunshine? These are
the parents of the wood replied the Sage
:" and are all numbered. Their numbers
contain the allotted hunting grounds that
belong to departed spirits in the Spirit
world" | feel that | am gathering the
leaves whose numbers give title to the
happy hunting grounds of the spirit. 1t
seems, as | attend the funeral of this and
that aged saint, as if | were a harvester for
the Spirit world. Our loss is their gain
They have departed and are with Christ.
To depart and be with Christ is far better
| am sure our sister, whose memory and life
we honor, would say it is better to depart.
She has been a long and patient suf-
ferer. Suffering has been her robe of hui
manity, and she wore her robe sweetly and
gracefully. We shall all miss her. Beth
any church will miss her anxious solicitude
and her tender regard She was deeply in
terested in her church and never failed TO
express that interest TO me. When l
called it was always How is the church?
and how are the church people? Is any one
sick or in trouble?" Her heart and spirit
were with us ever, though her body
was compelled to be absent by dis
do fnat
through suffering, and such characters
as Mrs Pages seemed refined in the fur
mace of suffering. 1t is well for the rest of
the " orld that here and there sufferer re-
mains with us to remind us of Gods good
ness TO us and to illustrate what beauty
abides in a soul that can trust in God while
enduring the pains OF the body. Hers was
"a woman's sphere, and there is no greater
sphere on earth. To mould the lives of
children, to mellow the hardness of man, to
soften the heart, and to awaken noble devo-
tion to God and the right, are the offices of
woman-as daughter, sister, wife and
mother. These Offices Mrs. Page was glad
to perform. Husband and son will miss
her, but the best part of her will always re-
main with them. The spirit that was in her
has impressed itself on their hearts and
minds, and can never be taken from them.
May the God that she loved and the Savior
that she served be theirs from this time
forth and forevermore. l can not more
appropriately close these brief remarks than
by reading this little poem:
Where the mountains slope to the westward
And their purple chaces hold
The new made wine of the sunset
Crimson and amber and gold
Z" In this old, wide opened doorway,
With the elm boughs overhead
The house all garnished behind her
Aud the plentiful table spread
She has stood to welcome our coming,
Watching our upward climb,
In the sweet June weather that brought
OH many and many timel
To-day. in the gentle spendor
OF the early summer noon,
Perfect in sunshine and fragrance,
Although II is hardly June
Again is the doorway opened
And the house is garnished and sweet
But she silently waits for our coming,
Ana We enter with silent feet.
a little within she is waiting
Not where she has met us before;
For over the pleasant threshold
She is only to cross once more.
''The smile on her face is quiet,
And lily is on her breast;
Her hands folded together
And the word ON her lips is rest
And yet it looks like a welcome.
For her work is compassed and done;
All things seemly are ready,
And her summer is Just begun
"It is we who may not over
Only with song and prayer,
We may reach as we leave her there.
" But we can not think of her idlei
she must be home'maker still
God giveth that work to the angels
Who httest the task fulfill
:" And somewhere yet in the hill-tops
of the country that hath no pain,
She will watch IN her beautiful doorway,
To bid us welcome again"