Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1893-10-12
a TRIBUTE 10 THE MEMORY
OF JENNIE GRISWOLD.

grew ana oudded here then passed on
to bloom in Paradise. Too pure and
good; too sweet and fragile fer the
sorrows snd suferings of this world.
the Universal Father. in love and pity.
transplanted our dear one 10 a fairer
cline there 10 bloom and flourish under
Ills loving eye and care. It is not
often a plant so choice Is given to
human love and care, but when we are
SO blessed by the Father we cannot
value and treasure His gift enough.
Such one will ever live in the hearts
left behind though saddened by the
separation and apparent loss. The
fine, invisible thread that formed the
tie is not severed. We are JUST begin
ming to learn its strength as we become
conscious of its attraction in drawing
us onward and upward to itself.
Love possesses great power, and
Jennie loved Us much-loved every one
with an affection whose very purity will
prove its potency for good to all who
came within the radius of her influence.
She was very ambitious TO graduate
from school rs soon as possible. and OF
being able to teach and thus help ''the
mother" she loved so we'll This hope
seemed to be the breath of life to her
and 70 lesson was too long or hard for
her to master. She was SO anxious to
get through and SO pleased that her
commencement day was drawing near
er and nearer. When il became expe-
dent to give up school it proved such
grievous disappointment, that, contrary
to the best judgement Of those who
loved her, she was allowed to keep up
her study of German, and she was so
happy and elated over it, still hoping to
get through in the specified time. But
alas, She has graduated in a higher
school than earth can ever fashion.
Whom our lives are frightened by
the presence OF loved ones we revel in
the sunshine of existence and forget
that this world is not our abiding place
The love of our dear ones is so strong
to hold US and while these are ours we
ask for little more But one by one
they slip from our loving hold aud
disappear from our sight and all the
strength OF love and life cannot keep
them in our loving clasp.
Why should thou fear the beautiful angel Death,
Who waits the at thee portal q the skies.
Ready to kiss away the struggling breath,
Ready with gentle hand 70 close thine eyes.
Oh what life, if life we're alg Thine eyes
Are blinded by their tears or thou wouldst see
Thy treasures wait thee in the far off skies
And Death, thy friend Will give them al 60 thee.
There is no death, what we call death
is but the beginning Of beautiful, free,
happy life. The marble face was kissed
so lovingly. the wasted form we laid
away so tenderly was not our Jennie
it was but the worn out dwelling of our
darling Our Jennie is in our midst a
living presence still A living influence
life so pure aud white can never die.
A love so pure and Christ like, as hers
ever was, can never lose its power, it
will draw all she loved to itself with AN
unconscious, irresistible attraction
whether the loved ones win or no.
Many months Of pain and suffering
passed ere the spirit was freed, but not
one complaining or impatient word was
ever heard. She was patient darling
always, ever thoughtful OF others, fear
ing they would be tired and weary with
the care of her, but never seemed to
think she was worn and spent with
suffering. She was always hopeful and
expecting to be we'll soon when she
would be able and SO happy to make
some returns for what she considered
the great kindness and love of those
about her. Each favor. though ever so
small was met with loving gratitude
for the thought of her that prompted it.
A pretty leaf or flower would call forth
the words ''oh. how sweet, Or "oh,
how lovely" The pure spirit recog-
nized the handiwork of tho Master she
had served so long, in each tiny piece
of His work that came to her notice.
When too weak and i'll for words, a
loving touch. or a glance from her eyes
those beautiful windows OF her still
more beautiful soul were as ready as
her words of gratitude had ever been.
"To know her was to love her and those
who knew her best loved her most"
All her life, from her baby-hood 70 her
seeming death, was made up Of spotless
pages, no blot or blemish ever furnished
even one. She was consistent always,
and alike faithful in every duty, the
least as we'll as greatest was as care
fully undertaken and as carefully ex-
ecuted. Dear, ''thou hast been faithful
over few things, thoul shalt be ruler
over many.