Myrtle Marriott 1880-1900

HILLIARD, MARRIOTT

Posted By: Volunteer - Barbara Evans
Date: 4/16/2013 at 20:53:35

Source: Van Buren Co. Genealogical Society Obit Book C, page 4, Keosauqua Public Library; Keosauqua, IA

Myrtle May Hilliard was born in Vernon, Iowa, May 23, 1880. July 27, 1897, she was married to Harley H. Marriott, of the same town. Together they took up the work of the gospel and continued in the same until of late when the health of Mrs. Marriott became very delicate. She came from this field of labor some four week ago to the house of her father-in-law when she gradually sank into that sweet rest for the weary. Only 19 years, 10 months and 29 days did she remain with us. Her suffering was quite intense, yet she bore it with patience. She was always ready in her sickness to testify for Christ. Death stole stealthily upon her, but not without warning. Shortly after midnight of her last night’s sickness she opened her eyes and gazing at her physician and another at the bedside she exclaimed, ‘Oh, I know, I am dying am I not?” Even after she became so low, the light of the eventide lingered long, and we could catch visions of celestial beauty as we looked into her face and watched the marvelous merging of her life’s sunset splendors into the rarer glories of the perfect and eternal day. On Monday morning April 22nd at about 8 o’clock the Master called and Myrtle answering closed her eyes on earth to open them in Heaven. Mrs. Myrtle Marriott is the daughter of Aaron Hilliard and leaves a father and brother to mourn her loss. She has one grown brother, William, and a mother who is now rejoicing with her in the courts of glory. She also leaves a husband and little Herman aged about two years. The following poetry was written by the husband:

Alas, dear Myrtle, not long ago,
When together we made our start,
How little we thought, ere a few years

should pass,
That life and death would part.

But the summons came and you answered

the call,
Just after the break of morning,
And he who gathers the weary for rest
Took you up in his arms rejoicing.

Then farewell, thou dear one whom to

Rest we do lay.
The chord of thy life snaps asunder,
And the home which is broken down here

today,
Begins with joy up yonder.

“Tho’ the looks of her face he does forget,
And each word she has said he does not

recollect,
Yet the story of her life, how she lived for

Christ,
May bring him to Jesus, for God and for right.”

“Her house was set in order when the weary wheels of life stood still.”