Atwood Family History Obituaries

5 Oct 1915 Humboldt Leader 

AGED LADY LAID TO REST

Mrs. Mary Cole Atwood was born in Itchington, Warwickshire, England , January
10, 1835, and died in Humboldt, Nebraska, October 5, 1915, aged eighty years,
eight months and twenty five days. At the age of 20 years she came alone to
America to join a brother near Trenton, NJ. On October 10, 1857, she was
united in marriage to James Atwood, who still survives at the age of 84 years.
In the spring of 1870 she and her family came to Richardson county, Nebraska,
and purchased a farm six miles north east of Humboldt. At that time the
country in many respects was quite primitive, the nearest railroad town being
Phelps Station, Mo. The land on which Humboldt now stands was then all
original or primitive prairie as was most of the country about it. When the
Presbyterian church was organized in Humboldt in the early seventies , Mrs.
Atwood entered the organization as a charter member, and was the last one of
the little band to survive. Fourteen years ago last March the decreased and her
husband moved the the farm to Humboldt where they have since resided. Eight
years ago she and her husband celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of their
wedding amid the home coming of their children for the occasion. Until recent
years she had a strong, rugged body, and a vigorous physical constitution.
During her last years, however, she was afflicted with infirmities of advancing
years and finally passed away, after two weeks of suffering and gradual
sinking. Her spirit took its flight at six-fifteen on Tuesday morning. She
was the mother of nine children, six of whom survive her. Rev. William C.,
pastor of the Presbyterian church of Brookfield, Mo., J. Ellsworth, of Beaver
City, Nebr., Mrs. Anna Wilkinson of Auburn, and Charles W., Theodore G. and
Benjamine D. who live on their mother's farm near Humboldt. The three who had
passed on before were David, who died at the age of 35, Emma, who died at the
age of 5, and George, who died in infancy. Mrs. Atwood has been a life long
member of the church, having joined the Wesleyan church in England nearly 70
years ago, uniting with the Presbyterian church in New Jersey and later with
the Presbyterian church in Humboldt and Prospect and lastly in Humboldt, where
she was a member at the time of her departure to become a member of the church
Triumphant. Her life has been a glourius life, full of faith, simplicity and
hliness. She had a love and tenderness for everyone and all her friends feel
that she has left them a blessing in their association with her. Interested in
every good cause, ministering to the needy where ever she saw them. Such a
saint deserves a large place in God's love and we are sure she has it . Funeral
services were held from the Presbyterian church Thursday afternoon a t 1:00,
conducted by Rev. A.D. Seelig, and interment was in the Prospect cemetery north
of this city. The Following tribute was indited and read by the eldest son of
the deceased, Rev. W.C. Atwood: In this memorial service today it is fitting
that we, the children, should pay our tender tribute of love to our mother.
Her patient, suffering spirit has gone from us, and can never return . We can
only look with tender affection upon the cold, silent tent, which her spirit
had it habitation for more than four-score years. After a long and honored
life, much of which was hard labor and incessant struggle, her sun has gone
down beyond the hills of time, and she has closed her eyes in sleep . "Asleep
in Jesus! Blessed sleep from which non ever wake to weep. A calm and
undisturbed repose. Unbroken by the last of foes." She had lived in this
community for over 45 years. She knew the hardships of pioneer life . More
than 45 years ago, with a growing family around her, and seeking, as she
believed, the welfare of that family, she expressed her strong desire to leave
her home in New Jersey, and go out to the broad, expansive prairies of the
west, even though for a time it meant hardship and deprivation and heroic
endeavor. She came to this country before the advent of the railroad , when
Humboldt had only 3 dwelling houses and one store. The first 5 years were a
heroic struggle for existence, but she was blessed with a rugged, physical
constitution and with the rest of the family she won the battle. Among the
traits that marked her life were patience, a sweet disposition, an in bred
desire to please those around her, a disposition to forgive rather than to
cherish resentment. In her religious life she was devout and spent much time
in reading her Bible. She lived in daily fellowship with her Lord, and knew,
by a life-long experience, the comforts and consolations of the Gospel. Her
children today are about her bier to call her name blessed. In her life of
sacrifice and toil and affliction, she has been to us one of the best of
mothers. She has left us a legacy of example, precept and love of which we
shall ever cherish as one of our most sacred treasures. There are two words in
our language which symbolize to us the most sacred things in this world. Those
two words are home and mother. In them is music which touches the depts
chords of affection in the human heart. Home in its fullest and most sacred
sense means mother. The little boy had the right conception of home when asked
where his home was, he answered: "Where mother is." We never get to old to
realize the truth that home is where mother is. Many times we are carried back
in memory to the glow of the old home altar, on which the fire of love never
burned out and to the midnight hour when again we hear the music of mother's
voice, and when again we are thrilled by her loving touch. Our childhood's
home was the Paradise of love, and the most tender of all loves was that of
mother. Ian Maclaren once said it would bankrupt a many to repay the love of a
good mother. Again and again we are reminded that no achievement is greater
than the simple, unostentatious ministries of motherhood. How bravely our
mothers have borne the heavy burdens laid on them! How courageously they have
met every deprivation and pain! In many instances our mothers are they who
will shine in the resplendent galaxy of martyrs. There is a little poem
entitled, "The Bravest Battle," which expresses our thought.
"The bravest battle that ever was fought, Shall I tell you where and when?
On the maps of the world you find it not: 'Twas fought by the mothers of men.
"Nay, not with cannon or battle shot. With sword, or nobler pen.
Nay, not with eloquent word or thought, From mouths of wonderful me.
"But deep in the welled-up woman's heart- Of woman that would not yield.
But bravely, silently bore her part- Lo! There is the battlefield.
No marshaling trop, no bivouac song, No banner to gleam and wave, But, O,
these battles, they lasted so long. From babyhood to the grave."
Our mother has fulfilled her mission: she has run her long race: she has laid
aside her armor, and with the Master's eulogy. "Well done" ringing in her
ears she has received a celestial crown that shall never fade away. Shall we,
her loved ones, meet her again? Every instinct for the soul cries out for the
meeting and the greeting beyond the grave. Yes, with the flourious hope of the
Gospel thrilling our hears, we have the blessed assurance that we shall meet
her again beyond the shadows of the dark valley. Our beloved mother has "gone
before to that unkown and silent shore," but somewhere in the far away realms
of the Heavenly life we shall meet her again. Just before President McKinley
left Washington by special train to visit his dying mother, he sent a telegram
which has probably done more for the Kingdom of God than any other single act
of his life. "Tell mother I'll be there." Rev. Charles M. Fillmore read this
message, and saw the possibilities that lay in it. He caught the phrase, and
wrote his world's famous hymn: "Tell Mother I'll Be There." Charles M.
Alexander took this song with him on his evangelistic tour around the world,
and everywhere its touching message reached the hearts of men. The first
stanza and chorus run thus: "When I was but a little child, how well I
recollect, How I would grieve my mother with my folly and neglect; And now that
she has gone to heaven, I miss her tender care; O angels tell my mother I'll be
there. "Tell mother I'll be there, in answer to her prayer; This message,
guardian angels, to her bear; Tell mother I'll be there, heaven's joy with her
to share. Yes, tell my darling mother, I'll be there."
The spirit of this departed mother is hovering near to her loved ones here
today. The sacred memories of sainted mothers are filling hearts here today.
With the sacred memories rushing upon us from the enchanted years of the past,
let us all dedicate our lives to God, and cherish the precious hope that we
shall meet our mothers on the Heavenly shores, where earthly loves and ties
shall be resumed and perpetuated forever and ever.