|Birth: ||Apr. 10, 1915|
|Death: ||Jan. 18, 2009|
A LOVING TRIBUTE ♥¸.•*´¯♥
(¯`•♥•´¯)☆ ♥ FOR THIS,
☆ º ` `•.¸.•´ « ♥♥ SPECIAL
... ♫ ♥¸.•*´¯♥ ❤ ANGEL
♥ •●۰FOREVER MISSED۰●• ♥¸.•*´¯♥
Mildred is the daughter of Isham Green "Ice" Snow and Pollie Tennie 'Taylor' Snow.
She is preceded in death by her husband Olen Henderson, a brother, Garland Snow, a sister, Virgie Casey and survived by a sister Gerene Willis of Wayton, AR. Mildred is also survived by numerous nieces and nephews, three generations worth... down to the great, great, greats.
Except for the time Olen served in WWII, Mildred and he spent all their lives there on Wayton mountain.
Mildred and Olen lived at the end of the country road where I grew up. Usually every evening the two of them would 'go out' to visit someone there on 'the mountain'. Their first stop, would a lot of the time, be our house. They'd stop in for a half hour or so and then go on their way. Sometimes they'd stay the evening there with daddy, mommie and us kids, just talking and visiting.
One of my favorite memories is of going to visit them. On their porch Mildred had a wooden wash cabinet complete with wooden towel holder at the back. There was a water bucket and dipper and a galvanized wash pan. She always had a bar of Dove soap there in a holder. No matter whether my hands were dirty or not I always found a 'reason' to wash my hands, I'd lather up with that bar of Dove soap, wash, rinse and repeat the process until mommie would 'get on to me' and make me quit washing my hands. Mildred would just smile. I loved the feel and smell of the soap. I still do... there is always a bar of Dove in my shower and every time I use it I think of Mildred. For me that's Mildred's smell.
She had a small flowering bush in her yard, she called it a March snow bush, I now know its real name is a flowering almond, it would be covered with small quarter-size pink flowers. So pretty. When I was a little girl I asked her for a 'start' of it and one evening when she and Olen came to visit she had a small sprig, roots and all, bundled up in a wet rag. I planted it beside the house where I grew up there at Wayton. When we bought our house here in Rogers I brought a 'start' from the bush there and planted it here in my front yard. Every Spring it's covered in the small pink flowers. Every time I go out and see it I think of Mildred and how it meant so much to her to do something for even a kid. That's something I never forgot. Even though I was just a kid and a lot of people would've brushed aside my wish or forgotten about it, she didn't, kids were special to her. I've seen my brothers and countless other small kids give her something to hold and she'd never put it down, just sit there and hold it until they came back around for it. She'd sit and visit and hold whatever it was they'd shown her and left with her and when they came back she'd smile, give them their 'purty' back and usually pat them on the head.
When my youngest nephew was small and would be there with his grandpa and grandma Vaughn, Mildred would always have a sucker in her apron pocket for him when she and Olen would stop for a visit. There's no telling how many suckers she carried in that pocket and gave away.
She always wore an apron over her dress, always. And in the pocket of that apron she kept a small hankie and her little snuff can.
One time Mildred told me about a grass skirt that Olen had brought back for her when he was in the military. She kept it in a trunk in one of her back bedrooms. On several occasions she would pull out the trunk and show the skirt to me. Those were special moments for me as a kid.
Many's the time I would spend the weekend with my grandpa and grandma Vaughn and Mildred and Olen would come to visit them. My grandma, Mary, was Mildred's aunt. I can remember grandpa and Olen watching 'raslin' on Saturday nights and Mildred and grandma sittin quietly talking about the things going on in the community. As a kid I'd hear names that I recognized but the stories themselves never stayed with me.
Both grandma and Mildred could tell 'haint' tales that would make your hair stand on end. After listening to them for just a little while the least rustling of leaves on the porch or one of grandpa's dogs making a noise outside would make my heart leap into my throat and slam against my ribs like a wild bird in a cage. But every time I'd sit down and listen almost without breathing.
I'd just sit quietly and take it all in as the four of them enjoyed another Saturday night.
Whenever daddy and Olen would go to the creek for a night of fishing, Mildred would come and stay with mommie and us kids. Usually the TV was turned off and we'd sit and listen to mommie and Mildred tell stories from years past.
These are the times that fill my memories of Mildred.
Instead of saying, "Oh my goodness" or "Good gracious" she would say, "Oh law" or "Oh Dog". I have no idea the origins of these sayings.
Mildred has and always will hold a special place in my heart.
Mildred's funeral was at the Wayton United Baptist Church on Wednesday, January 21, 2009 and officiated by Rev. Donnie Villines. She had been a member of this church since 1940.
Pallbearers were Monte Willis, Michael Willis, Bill Willis, Keith Brown, Erby Daniels and Ronnie Brown.
Honorary pallbearers were her neices and nephews.
"For everything there is a season,
and a time for every purpose under Heaven:
a time to be born, a time to die,
a time to plant, a time to uproot,
a time to weep, a time to laugh,
a time to grieve, a time to dance"
~ King Solomon (Ecclesiastes 3)
*´¯`•.¸¸. ♥ *
Don't Cry for me...
If you could only see where I'm at now, you wouldn't cry for me. All of Heavens Angels met me when I arrived and I was met by Jesus with a loving embrace. I walked side by side with old friends and family alike. Don't cry for me because here there is no trace of sickness or sadness only His loving Grace. The beauty is beyond words and nothing I could say would compare. Don't cry for me because I am in a far better place, with streets of gold just like we were told. So please remember don't cry for me but rather rejoice for I can hear angels sing. Oh, how much peace their voices bring.
by John G. Ward & Matthew E
*´¯`•.¸¸. ♥ *
♥*•.¸ When they walk through the valley of weeping it will become a place of springs where pools of blessing and refreshment collect after rains ¸.•*♥ Psalms 84:6
*´¯`•.¸¸. ♥ *
You can shed tears that I am gone.
Or you can smile because I lived.
You can close your eyes
and pray that I will come back
Or you can open your eyes
and see all that I left.
Your heart can be empty
because you can't see me
Or you can be full
of the love we shared
You can turn your back on tomorrow
and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow
because of yesterday.
You can remember me
and only that I am gone
Or you can cherish my memory
and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what I'd want:
open your eyes,
love and go on.
`*.¸.* ´* Special Loved One *´¯`•.¸¸. ♥ *
Isham Green Snow (1891 - 1976)
Pollie Taylor Snow (1895 - 1954)
Olen Henderson (1907 - 1997)*
Mildred Eveline Snow Henderson (1915 - 2009)
Darlis Snow Garrison (1937 - 2011)*
Created by: Beverly Joe Vaughn
Record added: Jan 19, 2009
Find A Grave Memorial# 33052683