With heavy hearts—but also with deep gratitude— we celebrate the life of a remarkable woman. A woman of faith. A woman of strength. A woman of grace. A woman who leaves behind not just memories, but a legacy rooted in love, prayer, and perseverance.
She was a mother of six, and to her, nothing on this earth mattered more than family. Her children were her pride, her joy, and her mission. She poured herself into their lives—sacrificing, nurturing, guiding, and praying—always praying. And as her family grew to include grandchildren and great-grandchildren, so too did her heart. Her love knew no bounds, reaching across generations with the same fierce devotion and gentle care.
To us, she was more than just a mother or grandmother. She was a counselor, a cheerleader, a safe place. She was the person you could count on for wise words, warm hugs, and heartfelt prayers—no matter what.
And oh, how she loved to look nice! She had a way of carrying herself with quiet dignity. But she didn't need expensive things to feel beautiful. She had an eye for treasures in unexpected places—a true thrifter at heart. She had a gift for discovering beauty and the confidence of someone who knew her true worth came from within.
Her greatest treasure, however, was her faith.
She loved the Lord with every fiber of her being. Church wasn't just a place she went—it was a community she built, a second home where she worshipped, served, and lifted others up. Her prayers were steady and strong, a lifeline for her family and a light for those in darkness. Whether whispered in the quiet morning hours or spoken aloud in a room full of believers, her prayers carried weight. And we felt them. We still do.
She would want us to share Acts 2:21 “And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved.” (KJV)
She was resilient. Life threw its share of storms her way, but she stood firm—anchored in God, rooted in purpose. She didn't break. She never gave up. Her strength didn’t come from this world. It came from a deeper place, a holy place. A place she tapped into daily with folded hands, bent knees and a humble heart.
We will miss her stories. Her laughter. Her advice. Her cooking. Her style. Her presence. But most of all, we will miss her prayers—those sacred threads that connected heaven to our homes.
Though she is no longer here with us in body, we know her spirit lives on—in her children, in her grandchildren, great grandchildren and in every heart she touched with her unwavering faith and selfless love.
She ran her race well. And now, she rests in glory.
Well done, good and faithful servant.
