From: "Nancee(McMurtrey)Seifert" <iggy29@scican.net>

To: <IADECATU-L@rootsweb.com>

Subject: OBITUARY - HARLAN DAILY.

Date: Saturday, June 02, 2001 8:21 PM

Decatur County Journal

April 24, l898

HARLAN DAILY died at the home of his father, in Shenandoah, Iowa, April

9, l898, and was buried at the Oak Hill Cemetery in Grand River

Township, Monday, April ll. The funeral was conducted by the I.O.O.F.

Lodge, of which he was a member, and the funeral sermon was preached by

the REV. DR. LITTLE, of Shenandoah, of whose church deceased was a

beloved member. He was followed to his last resting place by a

concourse of sympathizing friends who feel deep sympathy for the

relatives of the departed. Beautiful floral tokens were sent by friends

and by the teachers and superintendent of the Shenandoah Schools.

He leaves a wife and father and seven, dear, sorrowing sisters whose

lives were knitted very close to that of their brother, whose every

thought had always been for the comfort and happiness of their dear

brother. He has simply gone before and is making Heaven dearer to them

by his presence. It was in this way that God touched the keys of their

souls in order to draw out most sweet and perfect harmonies.

We all must learn that some with plaintive tongues, must walk in the

lowly vales of sorrow, others, in loftier hymns, sing of nothing but joy

as they tread the mountain tops of life; but they all unite without

discord or jar as the ascending anthems of loving and believing hearts

finds its way into the chorus of the redeemed in Heaven. When sickness

has drawn a veil over the gayety of our hearts or some cloud has

darkened the pleasing scenes, then the world loses her allurement and

appears as an empty delusion cheat, then Jesus and the Gospel beam forth

with inimitable lustre, and Christian virtue gains loveliness from such

providences and treads the shades with more than mortal charms. Our

friends die and leave our hearts and homes desolute for a time. We

cannot prevent it, nor would it be best if we could. Sorrow has its

useful lessons, and death is the gate that opens out of earth toward the

house "eternal in the Heavens". If we lose them, Heaven gains them; if

we mourn, they rejoice; if we hang our harps on the willows, they tune

theirs in the eternal orchestra above, rejoicing that we shall soon be

with them.

A FRIEND.

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