Mary (Gill) Donovan 1827-1909

DONOVAN, GILL

Posted By: Joe Conroy (email)
Date: 6/26/2010 at 21:25:29

The Palo Alto Tribune
Emmetsburg, Iowa
15 Dec 1909
Page 6

Mother Is Dead.

"God's Will be Done"

Mrs. John Donovan died at her home in Emmetsburg, Iowa at 6:30 p.m. Friday, December 10, 1909. Though enfeebled with age for many years, yet her last illness which was devoid of pain or suffering was of just one weeks duration. This illness seemed but a time of probation that God extended to her, before he called her to the better world where sorrow never comes and where death never enters. When the final summons came the smile upon her face was expressive of peace in God and a willingness to depart from us and rest with Him. She died as she lived calmly, quietly and without the slightest indication of resentment against His will.

Mary Gill was born in the County Galway, Ireland, March 25, 1827. She came to America with her mother in 1849. They remained in New York for a few months and then went to Thompsonville, Conn., where on January 18, 1851 she was united in marriage to John Donovan. In 1854 they came to Iowa and settled in Clayton county. In 1870 they moved to Palo Alto county and resided on a farm in Freedom township until 1883 when they came to this city where they have since made their home.

Above is the simple story of her existence but we are sure that it is pardonable for us at this time to gather up the elements of her life and we are them together in memory of our noble mother. The journey of her life was over four score years and every inch of its path is marked with deeds of kindness, love and cheer. The beautifying influences of a pure religion were spread over a life and character as spotless and charming as was ever possessed by any of the noble women that have lived and died during the ages that are gone. Such a life was a blessing and a benefaction to all within the sphere of its usefulness. Her every day life was embellished by the most charming and lovable attributes of her sex. She was a gentle-woman; a perfect lady at all times and under all circumstances. She seemed born to inspire the love and respect of those who knew her. Her life was so pure and full of human sympathy that every where she went seemed better because she was there. No one was more willing than she to aid the suffering, cheer the desponding, sustain the weak, and best of all, to throw the mantle of Christian charity over the frailties of humanity. She had not a thought that was not a gentle one, not one that did not hold all the world in the arms of its kindliness. Age did not destroy the charm of a kind indulgent disposition, nor did years diminish her unselfish solicitude for her friends and her family. On the contrary time took from her life and character, only the worldliness that is necessary for a successful life, during active years, and left there the embodiment of all that was pure, beautiful, gentle and holy, and really left all that was worth while in life. Her life was so complete. Nothing was left undone. She did well all that God gave her to do, and now that she has been called to account for her stewardship we know that only reward awaits her. She was a loved and loving wife and mother. She is mourned and missed by us who love her. If faults she had, we have failed to find them, and hence we have naught but good deeds to keep bring in the lime light of memory, and ask but strength to emulate her virtues. This earthly parting brings unmeasurable sorrow to husband and children. yet we realize that it is just as good to die as to be born; all life is a unit. Everything that is is a part of this unit. All is one. We lament this physical separation, and seem to see no good in it, but through it, all Nature's laws adjust the balance, and we rise round by round in soul development, or sink out of sight and out of the world to begin anew under better conditions. He have laid her tenderly away. The life that has been so closely connected with ours has gone out. The anchor chains of life are broken and we now drift hopelessly on the sea of time. Nothing seems worth while now. Not even the sun shines for us. But time, we are sure, will bring rays of light to our sorrowing hearts. Few, perhaps, at first, but they will light us on our way, and later the glory of a new day will dawn, the balance will again be adjusted and we will be compensated. This death is a link that will bind us to the great beyond, as the memory of her life will be an inspiration to so live that we may one day be admitted again into the living presence of Mother.