The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1904-03-03
A Beautiful Life Ended.

could raise.
A Beautiful Life Ended.
Mrs. Mary j. Stanley bade farewell to
earth and friends and closed her eyes
in the last sleep Feb. is, 1904, at 1880
a. m. She leaves seven sons and three
daughters and large concourse Of
friends and relatives to mourn her un-
timely departure. The subject Of this,
sketch was born in Pulaskia, Mo-, Sept.
16, 1910. AT the age of Is she was con-
verted and united with the Baptist
church and has been consistent and
faithful in her religious adherence.
Her maiden name was Mary Jane Le-
Toilette and on Feb. 4, 1858, was united
in marriage to Rev. A. Stanley, Of Leon,
Iowa, who preceded her to the final
resting place nine years ago.
Her friends were as numerous as her
,acquaintances or associates, and all
without exception speak of her in the
highest terms Of esteem and admiration.
They will read of her sudden death with
a pang of poignant grief. The vista
tion of the death messenger must at any
time bring bitter regrets. When it is
the cause of breaking up happy home,
the sad stroke of real separation, the
final farewell, drives the dagger of grief
deep down into the souls of the surviv-
ors. Oh, the wonderful ways of provi-
dence. The why and the wherefore Of
death are among the unscrutable
mystery of the Eternal. Alas, little do
we know of our destiny, How often are
we doomed to disappointment. The sun
of our life's summer is sometimes fated
to look down on nothing but untitled
expectations, bleeding and whiting
hearts, despair, disease and death.
What folly for us to build castles in the
air for the greater power to raise with
confusion. Truly did the wise man say:
"What shadows we are and what
shadows we pursue" Our only remedy
as we'll as our best duty is to receive,
resignedly, whatever may be sentus,
from the hands of Him who hath assured
us that He doeth all things we'll. Like
the setting sun her spirit passed out of
sight, soon to arise and brighten am
other world than this. Loving hands
prepared her remains. Flowers beauti-3
full and plentiful, bestrewed the lid OF
the casket, fitting emblems they were Of
the form, withered and faded under
meath. Sorrowing relatives and sympa-
thizing friends formed the funeral
march that wended it's way to the
Forest Lawn cemetery where the body
was laid to rest to await the coming of
the Saviour in clouds of glory. Turn
over the lid for last look at the face
you shall never see more. Now lower
the casket, there now rest, all is over,
Crest in God" Mother dear, none shall
come here to disturb your sweet slum-
bers. Sleep, sleep on, the sleep Of the
just, on the couch that knows no dream
ing. Darkness and dampness, mold and
mildew, may form around you in your
solitary cell, little affecting you in that
cold, cold chamber. The world may
continue to run it's rapid round of busy
work above you, making little difference
to you. Your earthly career is closed.
In next summers shining sun, loving
hands will cultivate fragrant flowers
above your sleeping ashes. The per-
fume of the flowers will not descend to
be inhaled by you, the deserving
creature in whose honor they will be
planted.
1t would appear some people were
never made to die, at least, it is pity
! that the ground should find room for
them. The world would be SO much
better by their remaining in it. Mother
Stanley was one of this kind. The
earth never had, nor never will have
enough of such people, yet she is gone.
The fairest flowers are soon selected
from this mother earth and transplant
ed to a fairer garden beyond the stars,
where they may blow in bloom never
ending. Our loss may some day be
heavens gain. Glory to her immortal
spirit and peace to her ashes. May we
all so live that we may be like her, be
loved by all in life and death.
T. S. S., Omaha, Neb.
Public Sale.
will sell at public sale at my farm at