Hester Owen Stafford

STAFFORD, OWEN

Posted By: Kevan Chown (email)
Date: 6/4/2008 at 08:56:10

Hester Owen Stafford
News Paper unknown
(Article found in Hazel Poole’s Bible)

Hester Owen Stafford was born in Xenia, Green County, Ohio Jan. 24, 1817, there she remained until the age of 21 when she was united in marriage to William R. Stafford Feb. 22nd 1838. They moved to West Liberty later on, where they have lived for thirty-five years in their present home and where her beautiful life ended Feb. 28th, 1898, at the good old age old 81 years. The funeral services were conducted by Rev. Schreckengast at the M. E. church Wednesday, March 2d. Six children blessed their home. Their names are as follows: M. M. Adams, C. E. Stafford, J. E. Poole, M. J. Lundy, G. F. Stafford, J. A. Stafford.
The death angle tarried long, then enters unbidden. When he hung the somber trappings of woe above the altar of love which these happy hearts had so trustingly erected, he left an aching void, a shadow, which nothing but a loving, trusting faith can pierce. In this we trust their hearts are strong and we are glad if it be so, for it must bring something of relief in these dark hours, when human words seem so like a mockery. May He who tempers the winds to His shorn lambs be with the husband and the motherless.
She was a faithful wife and mother, lovingly discharging the various duties allotted to women though a long period of years, until sickness laid her low. She has been an invalid for many years. Of her sufferings we cannot (article torn missing word) God only knows who loves and pities all. She retained her mental faculties in a remarkable degree and bore her affliction with much fortitude and cheerfulness. Their sixtieth anniversary occurred a few weeks before her death.
It is finished; the last sad farewell has been spoken, the last sad rites have been performed. Loving hands have placed the white lilies of peace upon thy quiet bosom and we turn with aching hearts to comfort the living. No (article torn missing word) us remember the love that blessed us here has not died but has only been transplanted where it will grow stronger under the sunshine and showers of a celestial world. Then while we weep we can say:
Rest, gentle mother, all thy work is done!
Rest, weary hands, thy touch was ever a caress!
Rest, tired feet, that nevermore shall life’s devious rugged way!
Rest, tender heart, from life’s over whelming woe!
O, blest are they who lay their bens down
And calmly sink to dreamless sleep.
Thrie blest, (article torn missing word)