Feb 1920

Olive Pearce Warren wes born on what is known as the John Billington place, April 1, 1859, and died suddenly of neuralgia of the heart, on the old Pearce homestead , one mile north of Cisne, Feb. 13, 1920. aged 60 yrs., 10 mos., and 12 days.

A short funeral service was conducted at the home of the following afternoon by W.D. DeSelms, after which the remains were laid to rest in the Cisne cemetery.

Ollie was the youngest daughter of the late Franklin Pearce, Sr., and Eleanor Orr Pearce. She leaves to mourn her passing, her sister, Adelia, and brother, Freemont, who lived with her in the home; two other brothers, F.H. Pearce of Cisne vicinity and Ralph Pearce, of Anna Ill., besides a number of neices, nephews, and other relatives.

Early in life, she took up the profession of teaching, which she followed very successfully for a number of years.

She was married to George Warren, of near Wayne City, in 1895, her husband having preceeded her in death about eleven years ago.

To this union was born a little daughter, which lived but a few months, but the mother heart yearned for childlove, and she took into her home a little motherless girl, Julia Martin upon whom she lavished all the love and care that she could have bestowed upon her own.

And this little girl, who, since last fall, has been Mrs. Paul Groves, is mourning the loss of her foster mother as sincerely as she could for an own mother.

“Ollie”, as she was lovingly known by all, was united with the Christian church in Cisne at the age of eighteen, and very quietly, very modestly, she lived the religion that counts most---”She went about doing good.” She was always kind, cheerful and true, which made her a great favorite with her relatives, neighbors, and friends who will sadly miss her.Peace to her memory!

“Then back to our separate places
A little more lonely we creep,
With a little more care on our faces,
The wrinkles a little more deep.
And we stagger--ah, how we stagger!
As we lift the load to our back,
A little more lonely to carry, For the want of a comrade we lack.

Oh, Spirit of Infinite Kindness
And gentleness passing all speech,
Forgive when we miss in our blindness,
The comforting hand Thou dost reach.
And though Thou hast darkened the portal
That leads where our vanished ones be,
We lean on our faith and Thy goodness
And leave them to silence and Thee.”
MINNIE T. WOLFE.