Note:This is the actual burial location ~ "memorial only" link above
One and a half years old, Ann was the first child of Ann Temperance George and John Doney of Corwall County, England.
They had joined with other LDS Church members from England to immigrated to America.
Tiny Ann's mother was seven months with her second daughter at the time Ann died during their transportation from Boston harbor to the encampment of handcart pioneers outside Iowa City.
The grieving parents would have to leave their little one in the lonely grave about a week later.
There is a cenotaph stone as a memorial to this baby in the Franklin, Franklin, Idaho Cemetery; however, the birth and death dates are in error.
Cenotaph Memorial
"WE'LL MEET AGAIN"
A blanket wraps your tiny form,
As if it's presence can make you warm.
We cannot stop our freezing tears,
Nor think of future, empty years.
Nor even take the time to grieve,
For we must surely take our leave.
The handcarts slowly move along;
We, among the tattered throng.
We trudge along, behind the carts;
Choking sobs, with broken hearts.
Blinding sleet now numbs our pain;
Our only hope, "We'll meet again".
~~~~~~~~Shirleen C. Farley 2011
Note:This is the actual burial location ~ "memorial only" link above
One and a half years old, Ann was the first child of Ann Temperance George and John Doney of Corwall County, England.
They had joined with other LDS Church members from England to immigrated to America.
Tiny Ann's mother was seven months with her second daughter at the time Ann died during their transportation from Boston harbor to the encampment of handcart pioneers outside Iowa City.
The grieving parents would have to leave their little one in the lonely grave about a week later.
There is a cenotaph stone as a memorial to this baby in the Franklin, Franklin, Idaho Cemetery; however, the birth and death dates are in error.
Cenotaph Memorial
"WE'LL MEET AGAIN"
A blanket wraps your tiny form,
As if it's presence can make you warm.
We cannot stop our freezing tears,
Nor think of future, empty years.
Nor even take the time to grieve,
For we must surely take our leave.
The handcarts slowly move along;
We, among the tattered throng.
We trudge along, behind the carts;
Choking sobs, with broken hearts.
Blinding sleet now numbs our pain;
Our only hope, "We'll meet again".
~~~~~~~~Shirleen C. Farley 2011
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