She was always the life and soul of the social events connected with the church. Was it a jumble sale? Mrs Dixon was there. [illegible sentence omitted]. Or a Mothers Union Outing or a Christmas Tea? There she was, making us all gay with her infectious laughter and the jokes which generally told most against herself – which of us who saw it will ever forget the occasion of the hot mustard bath on the Parish Room Platform or ‘the fit of sneezing’ that brought the house down. The children – I fancy she loved the ChiIdren’s treat best of all; she was always there and I have seen her gaze with eyes that were not quite dry at the gaily decorated Christmas tree hung with the gifts that were to be given to the children.

Till almost the end, she was making little garments for Dr Barnado’s babies. Unable to get to the working parties, she had the work at home and took the greatest pride and delight in putting into each tiny garment the most beautiful stitchery.

Where help was needed she loved to give it. Sorrows and bereavement had quickened her sympathy and no one ever appealed to her in vain.

After her home, St Margaret’s Church and all it stood for, held perhaps the largest part of her heart and life and she was seldom absent from her seat on a Sunday evening.

During these last few months, when weakness and weariness came upon her, she shewed amazing patience and a laugh was never far distant. One of her last outings was to the Church she loved and not many days after I had driven her there for her Easter Communion, she was called to the eternal Easter where there shall be neither sorrow or crying, nor any more pain.