Vesper Mae Stewart
February 5, 1899
Muncie (Indiana) Morning News
Vesper Mae, oldest daughter of O K and Laura Stewart, was born May 17 1891, died February 1, 1899, aged 7 years, 8 months and 14 days. Mae was a sweet and loving girl, lived by all who knew her. No tongue can tell how much she endured through her long illness; yet she bore it bravely, looking forward to the time when she would be well again. And now, as she leave a loving father and mother and many dear friends and relatives to mourn her loss; little Mae is sweetly resting in the arms of her Master, who said "Suffer the little children to come unto Me and forbid them not, for such if the kingdom of Heaven." It is said "Death Loves a Shining Mark," and it seemd most true. In her we have lost the precious buds of promise. In school she was a loving and obedient little pupil, striving to be the best in her class and always doing the work assigned her without a single murmur. Hew little playmates seem to possess the thought that Mae seemed born and fitted to be leader among them. Her kind ways and loving disposition won a warm place in their young and tender hearts. As a place is vacant in our school, which mever can be filled we feel that. The funeral was conducted at her residence, one mile south of Yorktown, February 2, 1899. A large and sympathizing congregation graced the occasion, showing their love and respect for her.

This little bud, so young and fair
Called to her early home,
Just came to show how sweet a flower
In Paradise, would bloom.

Hushed is the voice we oved so well,
Silence reigns instead;
How deep the grief we cannot tell,
Since our dear little Mae is dead.

She is gone, the Master called her.
He who died, her soul to save;
And she's gone in triumph homeward
Through the pathway through the grave.

Just like a flower pure and white,
Amid us she did roam.
Greeting all like the sunshine bright
Til the angels called her home.

Weep not, that her toll is o'er.
Weep not that the reace is run;
God grant that we may rest as calmly
When our work, like hers, is done.
--Ida S Ogel