Laurance Richardson

RICHARDSON - Laurence Richardson son of Mr. and Mrs. W.B. Richardson, was born June the 24th, 1889, and died January 23rd, 1890.  Laurence was the only son of the family of five children and was the pride of his partents and pet of his four little sisters.  They all doted upon this little man who was to carry the family name and make glad the hears of his people, but death coveted the precious jewel and aimed his cold dart it, and through all was done that kind hands and bleeding hearts could do, death was victorious and bore away the prize.

We bow in sorrow at the taking of the little one, feeling tht while the ripened fruit should be gathered, it is almost unkind that the bud should be taken before it even has time to unfold into a blossom, but in nature fruits fall--so do blossoms and buds,  In the way of a kind providence this is perhaps best, and in taking of this little one from our care, we accept the cross and bear it, believing that  the tender bud will not yet bloom in the angel land whither the spirit of this one has so early flown.  Perhaps itis best that this child's life on earth went out so soon.  With all the trials that meet struggling humanity on every side; with the sorrows that line life's pathway from childhood to old age, who can contemplate the passing of an innocent soul from earth to heaven without feeling that our loss is the young soul's eternal gain.  It makes us feel that one of our dear ones is in that beautiful land awaiting our coming; standing as a beacon light inviting us to come where there is rest for the weary.  Truthfully has it been said that there is no flock, however watched and tended, but what one dead lamb is there.  There is no fireside, however defended, but has one vacant chair.  To dust thou art, to dust returneth, was not spoken of the soul.  We can but say sleep on, sweet babe, and take thy rest.  God took the home--He deemed it best.  Would that we, too, could be accompanied to the Master's gate with the same pure innocence that carried thee thither.  We thank God that our hopes reach beyond the grave.
                                                  A Friend.

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