Her memorial program was beautiful. It contained a lovely history of her life, a family tree, and this poem that I would like to share.
Tapestry of My Life
I wonder what the other side will be when I have finished weaving all my thread. I do not know the pattern nor the end of this great piece of work which is for me. I only know that I must weave with care the colors that are given to me, day by day, and make of them a fabric firm and true, which will be of service for my fellow man.
Sometimes those colors are so dark and gray I doubt if there will be one line or trace of beauty there. But all at once there comes a thread of gold or rose so deep that there will always be that one bright spot to cherish or to keep and maybe against its ground of darker hue it will be beautiful.
The warp is held in place by the Master's hand. The Master's mind made the design for me; if I but weave the shuttle to and fro and blend the colors just the best I know, perhaps when it is finished, He will say, "Tis good," and lay it on the footstool of His feet.