Ben F. Taylor wrote the following about Elizabeth in 1955:
A Picture in a Tombstone
I was attracted by and to a lone grave stone protected from all intruders by a fence of iron leaded in stone. This grave stone marks the resting place of a girl who closed her eyes when but thirteen years of age. They hollowed her bed of clay in the trying days of 1862. It was not the name, nor the age, neither the date of the year that held me spellbound for a moment. Above the name is a well carved niche in which Elizabeth's picture is sealed. After ninety and more years of heat and cold; of rain and sleet; of night and day, I looked upon the likeness of a fair maiden. Her dust has not felt the cold touch of kindred ashes. Elizabeth sleeps alone. How very dearly she must have been loved at home for parenthood to do all within their power to protect and to keep alive the memory of their daughter. Her parents' generation and that of her own have felt the chilly waters of that Jordan which have unceasingly flowed from Abel across the generations of Adam's race and shall continue until time shall be no more. No visitors come to her grave except, perchance some stranger, as I, stop a moment out of curiosity. It may be that now and then a bird finds perch on the cold iron fence and warbles a song of cheer or some trailing arbutus creeps in to blossom an assurance of the coming resurrection. Such is the fate of humanity. We live, we endeavor, we sleep and new generations know us not. Let us turn from memories of the pleasurable past; from thoughts of tears and farewells; to that future day when death shall be vanquished; when mortality shall be swallowed up of life; when the grave shall present it's harvest. In that day the bodies of the redeemed in Christ shall be replicas of His own glorious body. All of the redeemed in Christ shall be crowned and all tongues will be tuned to sing of Moses and of the Lamb. What unspeakable riches await the Redeemed in Christ.
Richard Dixon: "The original stone was destroyed in the 1974 tornado. The cemetery board replaced the stones that couldn't be repaired with new stones as you can see by this one."
A Picture in a Tombstone
I was attracted by and to a lone grave stone protected from all intruders by a fence of iron leaded in stone. This grave stone marks the resting place of a girl who closed her eyes when but thirteen years of age. They hollowed her bed of clay in the trying days of 1862. It was not the name, nor the age, neither the date of the year that held me spellbound for a moment. Above the name is a well carved niche in which Elizabeth's picture is sealed. After ninety and more years of heat and cold; of rain and sleet; of night and day, I looked upon the likeness of a fair maiden. Her dust has not felt the cold touch of kindred ashes. Elizabeth sleeps alone. How very dearly she must have been loved at home for parenthood to do all within their power to protect and to keep alive the memory of their daughter. Her parents' generation and that of her own have felt the chilly waters of that Jordan which have unceasingly flowed from Abel across the generations of Adam's race and shall continue until time shall be no more. No visitors come to her grave except, perchance some stranger, as I, stop a moment out of curiosity. It may be that now and then a bird finds perch on the cold iron fence and warbles a song of cheer or some trailing arbutus creeps in to blossom an assurance of the coming resurrection. Such is the fate of humanity. We live, we endeavor, we sleep and new generations know us not. Let us turn from memories of the pleasurable past; from thoughts of tears and farewells; to that future day when death shall be vanquished; when mortality shall be swallowed up of life; when the grave shall present it's harvest. In that day the bodies of the redeemed in Christ shall be replicas of His own glorious body. All of the redeemed in Christ shall be crowned and all tongues will be tuned to sing of Moses and of the Lamb. What unspeakable riches await the Redeemed in Christ.
Richard Dixon: "The original stone was destroyed in the 1974 tornado. The cemetery board replaced the stones that couldn't be repaired with new stones as you can see by this one."
Ben F. Taylor wrote the following about Elizabeth in 1955:
A Picture in a Tombstone
I was attracted by and to a lone grave stone protected from all intruders by a fence of iron leaded in stone. This grave stone marks the resting place of a girl who closed her eyes when but thirteen years of age. They hollowed her bed of clay in the trying days of 1862. It was not the name, nor the age, neither the date of the year that held me spellbound for a moment. Above the name is a well carved niche in which Elizabeth's picture is sealed. After ninety and more years of heat and cold; of rain and sleet; of night and day, I looked upon the likeness of a fair maiden. Her dust has not felt the cold touch of kindred ashes. Elizabeth sleeps alone. How very dearly she must have been loved at home for parenthood to do all within their power to protect and to keep alive the memory of their daughter. Her parents' generation and that of her own have felt the chilly waters of that Jordan which have unceasingly flowed from Abel across the generations of Adam's race and shall continue until time shall be no more. No visitors come to her grave except, perchance some stranger, as I, stop a moment out of curiosity. It may be that now and then a bird finds perch on the cold iron fence and warbles a song of cheer or some trailing arbutus creeps in to blossom an assurance of the coming resurrection. Such is the fate of humanity. We live, we endeavor, we sleep and new generations know us not. Let us turn from memories of the pleasurable past; from thoughts of tears and farewells; to that future day when death shall be vanquished; when mortality shall be swallowed up of life; when the grave shall present it's harvest. In that day the bodies of the redeemed in Christ shall be replicas of His own glorious body. All of the redeemed in Christ shall be crowned and all tongues will be tuned to sing of Moses and of the Lamb. What unspeakable riches await the Redeemed in Christ.
Richard Dixon: "The original stone was destroyed in the 1974 tornado. The cemetery board replaced the stones that couldn't be repaired with new stones as you can see by this one."
A Picture in a Tombstone
I was attracted by and to a lone grave stone protected from all intruders by a fence of iron leaded in stone. This grave stone marks the resting place of a girl who closed her eyes when but thirteen years of age. They hollowed her bed of clay in the trying days of 1862. It was not the name, nor the age, neither the date of the year that held me spellbound for a moment. Above the name is a well carved niche in which Elizabeth's picture is sealed. After ninety and more years of heat and cold; of rain and sleet; of night and day, I looked upon the likeness of a fair maiden. Her dust has not felt the cold touch of kindred ashes. Elizabeth sleeps alone. How very dearly she must have been loved at home for parenthood to do all within their power to protect and to keep alive the memory of their daughter. Her parents' generation and that of her own have felt the chilly waters of that Jordan which have unceasingly flowed from Abel across the generations of Adam's race and shall continue until time shall be no more. No visitors come to her grave except, perchance some stranger, as I, stop a moment out of curiosity. It may be that now and then a bird finds perch on the cold iron fence and warbles a song of cheer or some trailing arbutus creeps in to blossom an assurance of the coming resurrection. Such is the fate of humanity. We live, we endeavor, we sleep and new generations know us not. Let us turn from memories of the pleasurable past; from thoughts of tears and farewells; to that future day when death shall be vanquished; when mortality shall be swallowed up of life; when the grave shall present it's harvest. In that day the bodies of the redeemed in Christ shall be replicas of His own glorious body. All of the redeemed in Christ shall be crowned and all tongues will be tuned to sing of Moses and of the Lamb. What unspeakable riches await the Redeemed in Christ.
Richard Dixon: "The original stone was destroyed in the 1974 tornado. The cemetery board replaced the stones that couldn't be repaired with new stones as you can see by this one."
Inscription
ELIZABETH I.
DAU. OF
MANASSAH & MARY
GRAYBILL
BORN MAY 17, 1862
AGED 13Y 11M 15D
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