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In Memoriam
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EDITH F. FOREMAN Rebekah Assembly President, 1947
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1914 ~ 2001
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On September 22, 2001, the Rebekahs of Idaho were saddened by the passing or our senior Past President, Edith Foreman. Edith was born on April 5, 1914 in Boise and lived her entire life in the Treasure Valley. She and her husband, Edward Florence, had one Daughter who preceded her in death. She worked for many years for the USDA where she received many awards and retired in 1970. She was a tireless worker in her church and in her Rebekah Lodge. Edith was a 63-year member of Emmett Rebekah Lodge No.32, and served as President of the Rebekah Assembly in 1947. At the age of 33 she was probably one of our youngest presidents. For her year as president, she chose as her motto, "Walk with truth and a friendly heart," for her slogan, "Build Fraternity." In accepting the office of president she said this, which I think is still very applicable in our world today. "True Fraternity can establish a bridge across the deep chasm of unfriendliness and distrust that now engulfs the world. All great things have small beginnings, and if successful promulgate the spirit of friendship, love and truth, it will spread like the ever-widening circle in a pool wherein a stone has been dropped, until it reaches out to encompass all peoples." When Edith was president, I was not even a Rebekah, but in the fifty-plus years that I knew her I always thought of her as a gracious and talented lady. She was a prolific writer and belonged to several writer's groups. At one time she wrote a column for the Idaho Odd Fellow in which she wrote of her many thoughts and philosophies about Odd Fellowship and life in general. She also wrote a number of ceremonies for use in Rebekah Lodges. She was a very organized person and had planned her own funeral. The folder, which we received at the services, contained the following, which she had written in 1988. |
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O Great Spirit let me lie In my last sleep upon a windswept hill Above the valley I call home. Where Squaw Butte, the mountain I have Loved through all my life, Towers above my lowly grave And vigil keeps.
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| Edith will be greatly missed, not only by
Rebekahs everywhere, but by her many friends which she made during a
lifetime in the Treasure Valley,
Leona Horn Laura Englehart Jean Burr
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WHAT IF? By Edith Foreman
What if I had never been born? What would I have missed? I should have avoided a thousand small disappointments and frustrations; Bit I should have missed the small successes and little triumphs that come from efforts well expended. I should have avoided the pain of childbirth; but I should never have experienced the thrill of holding my precious baby, nor the joy of helping her take her first tentative steps. I should have been spared the depths of sorrow and despair; but I should have missed the love and devotion of those I have held most dear. I should have been spared the horrors of war, with its burden of death, destruction, and suffering; but I should have missed knowing the sacrifices willingly made, the benevolence freely given, and the sympathy sincerely extended. I should have escaped the awesome roll of thunder and the frightening flashes of lightening streaking downward from the heavens; but I should have missed the warmth of sun on a brisk spring morning, the uplifting azure of the sky, and the white clouds trying to outwit the spanking breeze. I might have been spared weary muscles and aching back at day's end; but I should have missed the incomparable flavor of fresh-picked strawberries, the glistening gold of spring's first daffodils, and the rainbow of iris blooms in early summer. I should have missed picking huckleberries in the mountains, frying trout over a campfire, pondering reflections of a flamboyant sunset behind tall pines mirrored in a quiet lake. I should have missed the grandeur of the Sawtooths, the roaring protests of swift-flowing rivers, the spires of tall pines rocking slowly in the wind, and the whisper of graceful wings as a skein of geese vee across a sunset sky. I should have missed the purr of a kitten curled in my lap, the welcoming nicker of a horse, and the stiff-legged romping of whiteface calves at play on a green hillside. I should have missed the sonorous peal of a great organ, the trill of an oboe, and the singing resonance of violins in the hands of master musicians. I should have missed the delicate green tassels of new growth on fir trees in the spring, the luscious flavors of sun-ripened peaches in summer, the artistry of frost-painted leaves in autumn and the pristine whiteness of winter's first snowfall.
In short, I should have missed the greatest experience known to mankind; life itself. |
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