Obituary:
Died November 3, 1887, in Robeline, LA, Mrs. Kate F. Templeton. She was born in Burke Co., GA, September 1847. Death came to her in it's ugliest form. Not in age, when the work of life is finished; not in youth, before life has taken root in earthly things; but in the prime of womanhood, when the ties of nature are the strongest, making her pilgrimage here just 40 years, 1 month and 5 days. She gave herself to Christ at the interesting age of beautiful young womanhood, till God called her home to bask in radiant sunshine of His presence forever- gone, but living and beautiful in the glory-land.
In 1872 she moved with her husband to Texas, from there to Natchitoches, LA, where near this ancient, historic town, some nine months ago, at their pleasant rural home, her husband left her for the better land. It was while on a visit to her son-in-law, Mr. James M. McCook, in Robeline, after a brief illness, surronded by friends, relatives and her three affectionate children, that God called her to join her little Hattie long gone before, and affectionate husband, Andrew J. Templeton, who died April 18, 1887, aged 46 years, 7 months and 14 days. Her marriage was a union of hearts as of hands. They were united in the bonds of the dearest affection. She made her home pleasant for everyone. She was a woman of unusual good sense, and really adopted herself to every condition of life. Her friends were numerous, as she was ever as a ray of brightest sunshine, spreading joy and gladness all about her, and winning the love and esteem of those she chanced to meet. The writer years back, a stranger then, chanced to stop at her home a few hours, and was impressed with her culture, refinement, elegant manners and her fitness for the highest walks of life. There was no plans in the household with which she was not familiar, and in the parlor or the kitchen presided with equal elegance. The cord of strong and beautous unity bound together her public mistrations and her domestic walk. She was no extinguisher of bliss at her own quiet home, but rather a lamp, a lens, a bright reflector. As a lamp, she shown all around in sweetness and love; as a reflector, she re-created and multiply the lovely, precious things she met with; and, as a lens, she seized the light of the bright and lovely things she saw and knew, and made fall in condensed and cheering beams upon the eyes and hearts of her domestic associates. She felt the force of the precious promise, "As thy day so shall thy strength be," and fully grasped it in all its comprehensiveness, and made it self applying in the few sad and lonely months of her widowhood, and realized that this was the rift in the cloud, through which the ray of hope's sunshine beamed upon her, which made her life but the mirage of a dream merged into a glorious sunrise the beginning of a perpetual day.
While her cold and inaminate lips move to speak no more, her words of love and affection in by-gone days will not be forgotten by her children. Her young son, Walter, promises to be a bright and shining light in any community, while Fanny has the stamp of her sainted mother upon her. God, for some wise purpose, has called her mother to His home, but she left with sweet influence of a mother's prayers even falling upon them, and the loving blessing and admonition which she gave them while here. In that a happy eternal home, me thinks she wafts back to earth a song.
R. W. Freeman Dec. 9, 1887
Died November 3, 1887, in Robeline, LA, Mrs. Kate F. Templeton. She was born in Burke Co., GA, September 1847. Death came to her in it's ugliest form. Not in age, when the work of life is finished; not in youth, before life has taken root in earthly things; but in the prime of womanhood, when the ties of nature are the strongest, making her pilgrimage here just 40 years, 1 month and 5 days. She gave herself to Christ at the interesting age of beautiful young womanhood, till God called her home to bask in radiant sunshine of His presence forever- gone, but living and beautiful in the glory-land.
In 1872 she moved with her husband to Texas, from there to Natchitoches, LA, where near this ancient, historic town, some nine months ago, at their pleasant rural home, her husband left her for the better land. It was while on a visit to her son-in-law, Mr. James M. McCook, in Robeline, after a brief illness, surronded by friends, relatives and her three affectionate children, that God called her to join her little Hattie long gone before, and affectionate husband, Andrew J. Templeton, who died April 18, 1887, aged 46 years, 7 months and 14 days. Her marriage was a union of hearts as of hands. They were united in the bonds of the dearest affection. She made her home pleasant for everyone. She was a woman of unusual good sense, and really adopted herself to every condition of life. Her friends were numerous, as she was ever as a ray of brightest sunshine, spreading joy and gladness all about her, and winning the love and esteem of those she chanced to meet. The writer years back, a stranger then, chanced to stop at her home a few hours, and was impressed with her culture, refinement, elegant manners and her fitness for the highest walks of life. There was no plans in the household with which she was not familiar, and in the parlor or the kitchen presided with equal elegance. The cord of strong and beautous unity bound together her public mistrations and her domestic walk. She was no extinguisher of bliss at her own quiet home, but rather a lamp, a lens, a bright reflector. As a lamp, she shown all around in sweetness and love; as a reflector, she re-created and multiply the lovely, precious things she met with; and, as a lens, she seized the light of the bright and lovely things she saw and knew, and made fall in condensed and cheering beams upon the eyes and hearts of her domestic associates. She felt the force of the precious promise, "As thy day so shall thy strength be," and fully grasped it in all its comprehensiveness, and made it self applying in the few sad and lonely months of her widowhood, and realized that this was the rift in the cloud, through which the ray of hope's sunshine beamed upon her, which made her life but the mirage of a dream merged into a glorious sunrise the beginning of a perpetual day.
While her cold and inaminate lips move to speak no more, her words of love and affection in by-gone days will not be forgotten by her children. Her young son, Walter, promises to be a bright and shining light in any community, while Fanny has the stamp of her sainted mother upon her. God, for some wise purpose, has called her mother to His home, but she left with sweet influence of a mother's prayers even falling upon them, and the loving blessing and admonition which she gave them while here. In that a happy eternal home, me thinks she wafts back to earth a song.
R. W. Freeman Dec. 9, 1887
Obituary:
Died November 3, 1887, in Robeline, LA, Mrs. Kate F. Templeton. She was born in Burke Co., GA, September 1847. Death came to her in it's ugliest form. Not in age, when the work of life is finished; not in youth, before life has taken root in earthly things; but in the prime of womanhood, when the ties of nature are the strongest, making her pilgrimage here just 40 years, 1 month and 5 days. She gave herself to Christ at the interesting age of beautiful young womanhood, till God called her home to bask in radiant sunshine of His presence forever- gone, but living and beautiful in the glory-land.
In 1872 she moved with her husband to Texas, from there to Natchitoches, LA, where near this ancient, historic town, some nine months ago, at their pleasant rural home, her husband left her for the better land. It was while on a visit to her son-in-law, Mr. James M. McCook, in Robeline, after a brief illness, surronded by friends, relatives and her three affectionate children, that God called her to join her little Hattie long gone before, and affectionate husband, Andrew J. Templeton, who died April 18, 1887, aged 46 years, 7 months and 14 days. Her marriage was a union of hearts as of hands. They were united in the bonds of the dearest affection. She made her home pleasant for everyone. She was a woman of unusual good sense, and really adopted herself to every condition of life. Her friends were numerous, as she was ever as a ray of brightest sunshine, spreading joy and gladness all about her, and winning the love and esteem of those she chanced to meet. The writer years back, a stranger then, chanced to stop at her home a few hours, and was impressed with her culture, refinement, elegant manners and her fitness for the highest walks of life. There was no plans in the household with which she was not familiar, and in the parlor or the kitchen presided with equal elegance. The cord of strong and beautous unity bound together her public mistrations and her domestic walk. She was no extinguisher of bliss at her own quiet home, but rather a lamp, a lens, a bright reflector. As a lamp, she shown all around in sweetness and love; as a reflector, she re-created and multiply the lovely, precious things she met with; and, as a lens, she seized the light of the bright and lovely things she saw and knew, and made fall in condensed and cheering beams upon the eyes and hearts of her domestic associates. She felt the force of the precious promise, "As thy day so shall thy strength be," and fully grasped it in all its comprehensiveness, and made it self applying in the few sad and lonely months of her widowhood, and realized that this was the rift in the cloud, through which the ray of hope's sunshine beamed upon her, which made her life but the mirage of a dream merged into a glorious sunrise the beginning of a perpetual day.
While her cold and inaminate lips move to speak no more, her words of love and affection in by-gone days will not be forgotten by her children. Her young son, Walter, promises to be a bright and shining light in any community, while Fanny has the stamp of her sainted mother upon her. God, for some wise purpose, has called her mother to His home, but she left with sweet influence of a mother's prayers even falling upon them, and the loving blessing and admonition which she gave them while here. In that a happy eternal home, me thinks she wafts back to earth a song.
R. W. Freeman Dec. 9, 1887
Died November 3, 1887, in Robeline, LA, Mrs. Kate F. Templeton. She was born in Burke Co., GA, September 1847. Death came to her in it's ugliest form. Not in age, when the work of life is finished; not in youth, before life has taken root in earthly things; but in the prime of womanhood, when the ties of nature are the strongest, making her pilgrimage here just 40 years, 1 month and 5 days. She gave herself to Christ at the interesting age of beautiful young womanhood, till God called her home to bask in radiant sunshine of His presence forever- gone, but living and beautiful in the glory-land.
In 1872 she moved with her husband to Texas, from there to Natchitoches, LA, where near this ancient, historic town, some nine months ago, at their pleasant rural home, her husband left her for the better land. It was while on a visit to her son-in-law, Mr. James M. McCook, in Robeline, after a brief illness, surronded by friends, relatives and her three affectionate children, that God called her to join her little Hattie long gone before, and affectionate husband, Andrew J. Templeton, who died April 18, 1887, aged 46 years, 7 months and 14 days. Her marriage was a union of hearts as of hands. They were united in the bonds of the dearest affection. She made her home pleasant for everyone. She was a woman of unusual good sense, and really adopted herself to every condition of life. Her friends were numerous, as she was ever as a ray of brightest sunshine, spreading joy and gladness all about her, and winning the love and esteem of those she chanced to meet. The writer years back, a stranger then, chanced to stop at her home a few hours, and was impressed with her culture, refinement, elegant manners and her fitness for the highest walks of life. There was no plans in the household with which she was not familiar, and in the parlor or the kitchen presided with equal elegance. The cord of strong and beautous unity bound together her public mistrations and her domestic walk. She was no extinguisher of bliss at her own quiet home, but rather a lamp, a lens, a bright reflector. As a lamp, she shown all around in sweetness and love; as a reflector, she re-created and multiply the lovely, precious things she met with; and, as a lens, she seized the light of the bright and lovely things she saw and knew, and made fall in condensed and cheering beams upon the eyes and hearts of her domestic associates. She felt the force of the precious promise, "As thy day so shall thy strength be," and fully grasped it in all its comprehensiveness, and made it self applying in the few sad and lonely months of her widowhood, and realized that this was the rift in the cloud, through which the ray of hope's sunshine beamed upon her, which made her life but the mirage of a dream merged into a glorious sunrise the beginning of a perpetual day.
While her cold and inaminate lips move to speak no more, her words of love and affection in by-gone days will not be forgotten by her children. Her young son, Walter, promises to be a bright and shining light in any community, while Fanny has the stamp of her sainted mother upon her. God, for some wise purpose, has called her mother to His home, but she left with sweet influence of a mother's prayers even falling upon them, and the loving blessing and admonition which she gave them while here. In that a happy eternal home, me thinks she wafts back to earth a song.
R. W. Freeman Dec. 9, 1887
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