The fourth discordant note in my instrument came to me by the death of
one of my later pupils, Miss Pauline Peterson, who began with her
sister, Miss Minnie Peterson, in 1896. She was fair to look upon and
her voice was sweet and pure and in range two full octaves. She was a
member of the English Lutheran church in Grove and Sixteenth streets,
was one of the Christian Endeavor workers and Sabbath school teachers
and her ambition was to sing in the choir and among the young people
of the church. During the three years' directorship of the choir, I
had gathered the young people together and the music was of a high
order. A number of them sang in the choir.
During these years Miss Pauline had become the promised bride of the
man of her choice and the day was drawing near and all preparations
were completed and the cozy home furnished. Only a few weeks remained
before the chorus of Lohengrin was to be sung by the young voices of
her friends who loved her so well. While we propose, God disposes, and
our expectant bride fell sick and the edict went forth that she should
be the Bride of Heaven and on May 1, 1905, she passed away. Instead of
the wedding song I was called upon to sing the parting song for the
beloved pupil. I thought I had fully prepared myself for the ordeal
and was ready to comply and perform the sad task which befell me.
After the family had passed into their pew, my tears began to start as
I saw the bowed head of her devoted mother, who was giving up her
first-born child so young to lie in the tomb. But I was not prepared
for the sight of the white casket as it was wheeled into the church,
with the solitary mourner, her promised husband, slowly following all
that was left of his bride-to-be, robed as for the bridal and her
shimmering veil tied in a large bow knot and the bridal wreath placed
lightly upon the casket with lilies of the valley and maiden-hair
ferns, trailing in graceful festoons around the casket. Truly all the
heroes do not face the cannon's mouth. It requires bravery beyond
conception to do this last mission for those we love and esteem. I
realized for a moment the difficult task and during the reading of the
scriptures the battle was raging within me. When the moment came and
the organ began the prelude, I arose as in a dream, and casting my
eyes away from the beloved form, I began in a low voice the beautiful
song (by Felix Marti) "By the River." As I sang I forgot all earthly
sorrow and directed my thought above the earthly home into the blue
vault of Heaven and I followed the young spirit into the everlasting
gates of pearl and left her there.
Safe in the Arms of Jesus,
Safe on his gentle breast,
There by his love o'ershadowed
Sweetly her soul shall rest.
[Illustration:
Dolores Bradley
Geneva Griswold
Geo. Jackson
Blanche Kroh
Leslie E. Woodworth
Peter Ramsey
Maud Gerrior
Alice Davies
Edw. H. Sanford