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Note: * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * Her full name was Rachel Ardinnia. Often seen as Ardinia & Ardinna. * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * Ardinna Smith - IN LOVING MEMORIUM Surviving her husband, Mr. Ralph Smith, two years and seventeen days, Mrs. Ardenia Wright Smith departed this life on Sunday, January the 24th, 1904, at 9:45 P.M., aged seventy-seven years and ten days. In 1843 at the early age of 16 she was married to Ralph Smith, of which marriage there were born unto them thirteen children, sixty-eight grandchildren and thirty-two great grand children. Of these, ten children, fifty-nine grandchildren and twenty-nine great grandchildren survive. For a period of more than fifty-eight years the holy marriage vow was faithfully kept. She was a true and devoted wife and a help mate indeed, to her husband. No more loving and watchful mother could be found, ever ready to soothean aching brow or to chide away sorrow. She possessed unusual energy which spent itself in many years of usefulness. Untiring and unselfish she lived and labored for her children and humanity, with a zeal to be admired. When past the meridian of life she was converted, found a Saviour in Jesus, and united with the Baptist church at Green Pond, of which she remained a consistent member until her Saviour sent his messenger to call her home to her rich reward. Her first hope and trust in God was strengthened and confirmed some twelve months previous to her death. From that time the presence of the Holy Comforter was a source of peace and consolation during the short period of her affliction. * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * To Mother No mother now for me to cheer, to see, No mother now to intercede for me, No footsteps fall, no calling voice I hear, For mother, my dear mother's gone from me. The old arm chair is sadly vacant now; No mother do I see with snowy hair For she has gone from us to heavn above, And all deserted seems the old homestead now. And looking backward cross the years I see, Myself in that dear old log house, where I, In childhood's mirthful glee, in front of fire And embers glow, playd & bout my mother's knee. At thy bedside sorrowfully I stand, To give thee drink and soothe thy aching brow, Bur oh: how helpless is my feeble hand, To stay, oh stay the fleeting breath of life. And for many decades I will hear thy sweet voice Saying, Willie it is Willie, at that voice An angel's voice forever calling me, To come up home and be with thee. And though thy spirit may forever dwell In some strange word beyond this transient sphere, That beautiful form lying cold in death With me, in memory, shall ever abide. Perhaps it was a burden once we thought The services of kindness in duty wrought But twas a blessedness, a year ago I did not see it as I do to day. Were all so dull and thankless and too slow To catch the sunshine till it slips away For no one so willingly our many wants supplied No one who loved us as did our mother dear. My magic light now leaps the plantation lake To see my mother on the other shore, Come bless me mother with thy holy love Descending from thy home in heaven above. - A Son. Note: Written by her son, William Smith * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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