    Catherine Grace 1847 - 1925  William R. Grace 1873 - 1950 
 G. E. Grace 1888 - 1920 
The Sunday Gazetteer
Sunday, September 17, 1907 pg. 1 One of the saddest events that has ocurred in the community in many years is the death of Helen Van Lier, the little daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J.W. Sale, who reside on West Main street, corner of Armstrong avenue. Death is the most terrible thing that confronts the human race. While it is inevitable, we cannot be reconciled to it. Helen Van Lier was an only child; she was the idol, the hope and the sunshine of a happy home. She dispelled all gloom; there could be nothing but happiness when little Helen was around. As she grew older, she grew closer to the hearts of her mother and father. When on Monday, September 9, the grim destroyer, crossed the threshold and laid his palid hand upon little Helen, it is any wonder that the parents were driven to the brink of despair and that life has lost its fascinating charms? The years may roll by, but they cannot heal the wounds of broken hearts. We can recollect the pathetic scene in the drama of Ingomar, when the distracted mother raises her hands to heaven and cries, "My child, my child! Give me back my child!" Little Helen was very dear to a large circle of friends and relatives. She was a very affectionate and lovable child. She was very pretty; there was every hope that she would grow up into beautiful womanhood, because of her perfect health, but death lurks and takes out of our lives the beautiful and the best, and this is the kind of providence which no parent can be reconciled to. "The Lord gives, the Lord takes away," contains no consolation - it doesn't give back the only child. We don't understand, and we never will understand why providence should invade and blight the perfectly happy home and snatch away like a thief in the night the one hope that parents live for. Helen Van Lier was laid to rest at Fairview cemetery. The hideousness of death was hid in a wealth of flowers, and many and many an eye was moistened with tears at the words of consolation uttered by the pastor. The grave never closed over a more pathetic scene. It looks too bad that the child must now sleep in the cold earth all alone, for in the bouyancy of life she never knew a night outside the parent nest. There is a vacant chair. Every little garment that she left is a legacy of grief. Keep everything her little hand touched, toy or trinket. The darling is gone - and yet she is not gone. Imagination perpetually renews her walk, her talk, her pretty little ways and goodnight kiss that will be forever and forever a remembrance to broken hearts.  Gertrude G. Wolfe 1884 - 1963 Fairview Cemetery Susan Hawkins © 2024 If you find any of Grayson CountyTXGenWeb links inoperable, please send me a message. |
