Ferris, Sarah Jane (McMillan) 1834 – 1895

FERRIS, MCMILLAN

Posted By: Joy Moore (email)
Date: 11/4/2015 at 15:16:25

Iowa Plain Dealer June 21, 1895, FP C6

Died.

FERRIS—On Friday morning, May 24, 1895, at the family residence near Doland, of acute pneumonia, Mrs. Sarah Jane Ferris, wife of deacon Elias K. Ferris.

Mrs. Ferris (McMillan) was born in Madison county, New York, March 2nd, 1834, In 1853 she was united in marriage to Elias K. Ferris at Sycamore, Ill. In 1853 they moved to Fillmore county, Minn., residing there 16 years, removing thence to Cresco, Iowa, where they remained until 1883, when they moved to Doland, S. Dak. Sister Ferris was a woman of great force of character. Firmness, self-reliance and rare executive ability were coupled with a loving winsome, Christ like spirit, and it may be truly said of her “she never made an enemy, she never lost a friend.” She became a Christian while yet in her teens and soon became an earnest and faithful worker in church and Sunday school. During the war while her husband was at the front, with the fidelity and true heroism of a soldier’s wife she maintained the family consisting of six small children, an invalid mother and grandmother. Her last illness was short, only lasting a few days. Her spirit was calm and unclouded. When nearing the end she said: “I know where I am going. It is all right between me and my Lord.” On her coffin were beautiful Easter lilies and other flowers sent by loving friends from the dear old home at Cresco, Iowa.
--Conde, S. Dak., News.

The following lines were written by her pastor.

Brave sweet spirit rest,
By all who knew thee blest!
And in the coming time so bright,
When life’s golden sheaf is filled with sunset light
Mellow halo of the dim and mighty years,
We come with faltering steps, eyes dimmed with tears,
Thy love mother dear still our dearest earthly prize,
We’ll heed thy latest wish to meet thee in the skies.

Thy memory ever green,
We’ll long to hear the voice unheard,
To see the face unseen.
Our love more fragrant with the weight of years,
Our hearts less heavy for the falling tears.
Sweet incense shall ever rise
From altar of our hearts to thee within the skies,
To all earth’s idols distance lent enchantment to the view.
But through the storm of years came our heart true.

Like fabled knight of old,
White as drifted snow, pure and good as gold.
This life’s deepest truest test,
Loved most by those who knew thee best.