When I was a young girl at home, many told me that my mother had written poetry when she was younger, but I never saw much of it. After her marriage to my father, her life was filled with four children and a farm. Farm life was never easy for any of us.
Move from that thought to the present, where our son-in-law constantly researches his family tree and our daughter’s too. Recently he unearthed a poem my mother had written as an obituary for her mother’s sister’s husband, who died in a train accident in Lubbock, TX. Finding this poem online was truly amazing.
Gone Home Forever
(written for Sam Houston Rogers, railway engineer, on the occasion of his death)
He has gone to live in heaven
With the Savior of his soul
At last this loyal child of God
Shall tread those shining streets of gold.
There his mind shall not be troubled
There his heart shall know no grief;
Endless peace and joy he’ll know there
Such is the gain of Faith’s belief.
He has entered those bright portals
And dwells in the mansions above.
Where sorrow and pain shall never come.
In the home of the Savior of love.
‘Tis sweet to know he had a Savior,
To go with him night and day,
To receive his spotless spirit
In that home across the way.
Yet on earth we still shall miss him
And shall mourn him sorrowfully:
Although we feel content to know
He passed o’er Jordon so joyfully.
In that land of everlasting light
Dwells a happy sainted soul:
Sweetest peace now reigns up there,
Around that throne of glittering gold.
Ne’re again shall we caress him:
We ne’re shall hear his voice,
But God has need of him at home,
And we with angels should rejoice.
Although the wound, dear aunt, is great,
It must be healed and God will heal it.
He knoweth best and doth best
All righteous things as he sees fit.
Cheer up dear one and do not weep:
That happy soul is saved and blest.
With welcoming hands he waits for us
To meet him some day in that City of rest.
His life was a lamp for others;
It brightened the pathway along.
Now his reward in heaven is great:
There he’ll sing in rapturous song.
Christ said to him, well done, brave one,
Thou were faithful in all thy tasks,
Loved thy neighbor, friend and foe,
Obeyed my word, did all I asked.
When Jesus calls us home to live,
With Him on that happy shore,
Our eyes shall not be filled with tears
We’ll be with him forever.
A niece,
Travis E. Donald (age 17)
Colorado, Texas 1930
MULIEBRAL VIEWPOINT 
Few things are as hard to comprehend as an untimely death: I’m thankful that your aunt had an Eternal Hope to comfort her–and that your mother was given words of comfort to share with her, Beth.
On another note, it seems unexpected that your son-in-law would be the one to discover your mother’s poem online, if I understood you correctly.
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I meant to say, your great-aunt.
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Yes, isn’t that ironic that our son-in-law found this? ❤
There must be more of my mother's poems "out there" if I knew what search parameters to use. I know she wrote a lot about the dust bowl days and the failing agriculture. The bulk of her writing would have been smack in the middle of the depression. The Business and Professional Women's Club took note of her and bought her high school ring and year book and I believe they were also the ones to pay for her college. At least Mother was able to go to college and I know she nor her family had the funds.
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