Orton

Great Grandpa Christopher’s sweetheart, Alice Austin, was born in Strickland. Her parents, John Austin and Mary Atkinson, were born and married here in Orton. They were born in the 1820’s, and married in 1849, at Orton Church.

This is probably where Great-Great Grandma and Grandpa were married.

“In Memory Of
George Atkinson
Yeoman of Bridge End
In This Parish Who Died
Nov 15th 1889 Aged 77 Yrs
Also Of Isabel His Wife
Who Died July 11th 1878 Aged 62
And of Their Children
Robert Died Sep 17th 1845
Aged 3 Years
Jane Died Jan 1st 1855 Aged 6
Isabella Died Feb 15th 1880 Aged 21
William Died Nov 15th 1889 Aged 36
John Died Dec 29th 1901 Aged 57
At Rest”

Were these Atkinson’s part of Mary’s family, or relatives? I wish I knew! Did she and her daughter, Great-Grandma Alice Austin, stand by this grave in Nov 1889, three years before Alice came to America to become a Gelder? What happened on November 15th 1889, such that both George Atkinson and his 36-year-old son William passed away on the same day?

On Leaving the Home Of My Childhood

By Christopher Gelder

A little boy at Hilton dwelt,
Oft at his mother's knee he knelt:
Was taught his earthly home to love,
Was told about a Home above.
And while in youth that boy did roam,
He thought he scarce could leave his home.
So hard a task it seemed to be,
He thought, "Sweet home" -- I'll cling to thee.

But soon his parents had to die,
He hopes to meet them by and by,
But then he thought he had no friend,
He thought his joys were at an end.
But years have gone, and strange to say,
That boy is far, far away:
And says, "Sweet home", I scarce can see
What I shall gain by leaving thee.

I've walked in summer free from care,
In fields of roses, rich and rare;
My path would sometimes changing be,
By waters calm, or troubled sea.
I've found a clime where soil is good,
I've found a country rich in food,
Still, dearest home, I cannot see,
What I shall gain by leaving thee.

Did I just chance this way to stray,
Or is it God's appointed way:
Is this the path I must pursue,
Is here some work for one to do?
Whate'er it be, my heart shall rest,
And trust in Him, Who knoweth best;
Though through the mists I cannot see,
What I shall gain by leaving thee.

But when this little life is o'er,
And I have reached that blissful shore:
When from this lower world I rise,
And dwell with Jesus in the skies;
When all the mists have rolled away,
Then in the light of endless day; --
Then happy home, then shall I see
What I have gained by leaving thee.