A Poem for Mother

A Poem for Mother

God saw you getting tired
And a cure was not to be
So He put his arms around you
And whispered "Come to Me."
With tearful eyes I watched you
And saw you pass away;
Although I loved you dearly
I couldn't make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
Hard working hands at rest.
God broke my heart to prove to me
He only takes the best.

With love from your daughter, Venca

The above poem was written by my sister after our mother passed away. I think it is a beautiful tribute to her. The photo above is of Venca and Mom at my daughter's high school play, Prince Caspian.

In Memory of Myrtilla Delaney Gilmore Thompson

Dear Auntie,
I wish I was well enough so mama could come and see you this summer, but as it is now I don’t know what we should do if she was not here. I can fritter around and do a little work part of the time and then some of the time I can’t, while if mama was gone, I would have all of the regular housework to do, and you know July and August are our very busiest months with the fruit and melons. Papa has in about 2 ½ A (acres) of melons this year and they are doing finely. Our strawberries will be ripe in at least two weeks now and probably some before then. We will have new potatoes in two weeks and are going to have beet greens this week someday. Have turnips 1 ½ and 2 inches through and our spinach is nearly ready to use. Have had radishes for a month or six weeks.

I have a snow-ball bush that has 47 great big snow-balls out in full bloom and just beside it is a peony all in bloom. It is a deep scarlet.

The Christian Church is just a short distance from our place and they are holding protracted meetings there so on the evening of my birthday, as it was very warm and pleasant, papa took me to church. It was the first time I had been in nearly 6 months.

I must close with love,
Mertie
____________________________________________________________

This photo of Mertie, Myrtilla, is the only one that I have which can definitely be attached to her. Myrtilla only lived until August of 1902 so this letter was likely written late spring or early summer beforethat when she was already ill. Myrtilla apparently taught school in the Palouse. She became ill and died when she was only 20.

I thought it was only fitting to take this opportunity to remember the life of Myrtilla Delalney Gilmore Thompson who was a joy to her adoptive mother and father, George and Nellie Thompson who missed her dearly after her death. She was young, but she faced death as a Christian with no fear, stating to those with her that she was "ready to go" to see the Lord when the time came.

I've heard it said that in Jewish tradition that worse than death is to have one's name forgotten forever. Myrtilla may not have had the opportunity to be married, raise and family and have her own generations rise up to call her blessed, but here and now we remember a young woman who "fought the good fight and kept the faith" over a hundred years ago.

Myrtilla you are not forgotten!