EDNA  PEARL MILLER WAITE from Steuben Republican, May 18, 1927, pg 12, 
	col 5

E. PEARL MILLER WAITE

        E. Pearl Miller Waite was born in Boon county, Iowa, November 3, 
1886, and departed this life at her home in Flint, Ind., May 9, 1927, aged 
40 years, 6 months and 6 days.
        On December 25, 1904, she was united in holy wedlock to Perry J. 
Waite.
        Mrs. Waite has been an active worker since at the age of 17, when 
she joined the Christian church at Stroh, Ind., and in 1904, united with the
Christian church of Flint, and after the church at Flint closed its doors, 
she became an active worker in the Methodist church, having taught in the 
Sunday school for several years and up till her death.
        She was a great worker in the ladies' aid and also the W. H. M. S. 
It seemed to be the custom that when anyone wanted help of any kind in the 
church or elsewhere to call on Mrs. Waite, who was always willing to do her 
part. She was also very active in the social life of the community, always 
willing to do here share. She was a member of the Gleaners lodge at Flint 
and held an important office in the same.
        Pearl was a devoted wife and companion, a loving mother, and a 
friend with a smile. These qualities made her beloved by all who knew her. 
Much credit is due her for her love for the home, and always trying to make 
the home pleasant for all.
        Her death was caused by a dreadful accident and with all her 
suffering, she never murmured, but put her trust in a Christ who can save, 
and left to be with Him who paid it all on the cross. 
        She leaves to mourn her going, a devoted and grief-stricken husband,
two daughters, Edyth, and Berdelia, and two sons, Lorin and Vernon; an aged 
father, one brother and a host of relatives and friends.
        Mrs. Waite will be greatly missed in the church and community 
because of her active life.
        Funeral services were held at the Flint, M.E. church, Rev. A.J. 
Shutt, of Flint, and Rev. A. E. Burk, of Leo, officiating. Interment in the 
Flint cemetery.
                                        He Giveth His Beloved Sleep
        Of all the thoughts of God that are Born inward into souls afar,
        Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is,
        For gift or grace surpassing this: "He giveth his beloved sleep."
        What would we give to our beloved? The heroes to be unmoved,
        The poet's star tuned hard to, sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach 
		and rouse,
        The monarch crown, to light the brows? "'He giveth his beloved sleep."
        "Sleep soft, beloved!" we sometimes say.  We have no tune to charm 
		away
        Sad dreams that thru the eyelids creep,  But never doleful dreams 
		again
        Shall break the happy slumber when "He giveth his beloved sleep."
        His dews drop mutely on the hill, His cloud above it saileth still.
        Though on it's slope men sow and reap; More softly than the dew is 
		shed,
        Or cloud  is floated overhead, "He giveth his beloved sleep."


Submitted By: Mona Hilden-Beckwith
E-mail: hilbeck123@att.net