Lodge,
Boissevain Number 17
I.O.O.F. [Independent Order of Odd Fellows]
Boissevain, Man.,
Nov 8th 1917
Mr B. Hill
Dear Sir & Brother,
We the members of the I.O.O.F. wish to extend to you and Mrs Hill and family our deepest sympathy in this your hour of sorrow and bereavement.
It is with the keenest regret we learn of the death of your beloved son Charlie. How the roll of “Honor” seems to lengthen out, another of our dear lads has paid the Supreme Sacrific.
“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends”
Our prayer is that God may send the Comforter to minister unto you for any word of mine seems so inadequate at a time like this.
I thought these few lines of James Whitcomb Riley might give you a little ray of Sunshine
“Away”
I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead, – He is just away!
With a cherry smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land,
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you – Oh you, who the wildest yearn
For the old time step and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here;
And loyal still, as he gave the blows
Of his warrior-strength to his country’s foes.
Mild and gentle as he war brave,–
When the sweetest love of his life he gave
The touches of his hands have stayed
To simple things:– Where the violets grew
Blue as the eyes they were likened to,
As revently as his lips have prayed.
When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred
Was dear to him as the mocking bird;
And he pitied as much as a man in pain
A writhing honey bee wet with rain
Think of him still as the same I say;
He is not dead – he is just away.
Yours Fraternally
H.J. Stevenson
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