May 6, 1896
The angel of death has again visited our home, and caused a gloom to overshadow our being. Time may to a certain extent wear away grief, but can never efface from our memory the sacred ties of our beloved ones. Mrs. A. E. Covington died, March 11th, 1896, in the 67th year of her age, of heart disease.
Our darling mother was suddenly snatched from us and her pure and spotless spirit sped on snowy wings to the mansions of its Creator. The day prior to her death she seemed unusually well and seemed to be more reconciled to the death of our dear brother, which sad occurrence happened only a short time before. But e’er the sun rose again, death had sealed her lips forever, and she had gone to meet our Father in Heaven. Oh, God, can we ever forget that awful moment when the sad, sad news came to us, “Mother is dead!” Gone without one child to say farewell, and imprint the parting kiss upon her dying lips. Oh, why was it thus? Why could not our mother have been spared to bid us farewell, and say, “Children, meet me in Heaven!” “Thy will, oh God, not ours.”
She was left a widow in her early life, with eight children, but God saw fit to pluck one bud from her bosom before it blossomed into manhood, and left her seven over which she had to assume the duty of father and mother, which duty she performed faithfully up to the time of her death. She was an indulgent mother and a devoted Christian, ever mindful of the feelings of others, never refusing to lend a helping hand to those in need. She always had a consoling word for those in trouble, her smiling countenance and cheerful disposition was like sunshine to her home.
We do earnestly request our friends and relations to implore a good and kind Father, to whom all must account, to send a solace in this sad hour of bereavement, to our hearts.
How many times has she gathered us around that once happy fireside and prayed God to be a husband to the widow and a father to her orphan children, but now her voice is hushed in death, her prayers we can never hear again. Can we realize that the voice we loved so well we can never hear again!
Is she gone? Can she never meet us at the gate again with those sweet smiles and welcome words we loved so well to hear? “I am so glad you have come.” No, dear Mamma, you can never meet us at the gate again on this earth, but we can meet you at the pearly gates of Heaven, and hear those sweet welcomes again. “I am so glad you have come.” Yes, my darling mother, “we will meet you there.”
“Our darling mother is asleep,
Upon her Savior’s breast;
Ah! brother, sister, do not weep,
Our mother is at rest.”
“For our kind and gracious Father,
Had need of a jewel bright,
So he took our darling mother
Up to His realms of light.”
L. C. S.