Tribute to Her Father Cliff Dawson by Eileen (Dawson) Rollins

 

On November 5, 1887, a small bundle from Heaven was delivered into the care of I. M. and Allie Dawson. On this day. Cliff Dawson began what was to be a long, long, and sometimes wearisome journey. This gift was nurtured in, and early taught, the importance of the things of God. At an early age he felt a strong a compelling force, with an accompanying decided pull, toward Heaven. At age 22 he married Nondus Lowe whose union was blessed with seven children. These children, too, were early taught the vitalness of the things of the Lord. At times it was difficult to negotiate terms by which seven faces were washed, seven heads scrubbed and combed, and seventy fingernails cleaned. But each time this arduous task was completed by Sunday school time on Sunday morning.

 

Always there have been children richer in the world's meaningless goods, but there were never ones more loved or whose father was more proud.

 

There have been crooks and turns, reverses and sidetracks along the way, but always, through it all, there was a distinct and uninterrupted pull toward that Pearly White City.

 

To these seven children were born 14 grandchildren, who in turn have presented their grandparents with 12 great grandchildren.

 

And through the years, the journey has been continued, ever more slowly, and more slowly. At dusk, the journey becomes progressively toilsome. “Surely I must be near the destination to which I started those many years ago.”

 

The sun is setting now and has nearly slipped beyond the horizon. "I am so tired and weary, but the pull from the Hand of God is stronger now, ever stronger, making the way easier.”

 

And now the care so diligently lavished on us, your children, can be returned. Yes, Dad, we have done that which we thought the very best for you and all that we knew to do, and we count it a privilege.

 

Many times now, Dad, it seems you are going to slip away and enter those gates that have created such a magnetic pull on your life. But you seem to say, “Just a little longer, Lord. My family may need me yet another time.”

 

Now we must lay down the responsibility of this care and commit you back to the care of the One who loves you even more than we.

 

Now the journey is ended. We see the Hand of God beckon you to come through the Portals of Glory, the destination for which this long journey was begun and for which you spent a lifetime making preparation. And, Dad, as you register into the Glory of Heaven our hearts are so heavy but we would not call you back. Through reddened eyes and tear-streaked faces we can only give to you a weak wave as we whisper in your ear, “It won’t be long before we will be there as you have diligently and faithfully marked the map and lighted the way. . . .

 

“And please, Dad, we will be so anxious for a big reunion, won’t you meet us at the Gate?"

Signed \Eileen\

 

—This carbon copy was found in one of the scrapbooks Verna (Dawson) Karns made of family records and memorabilia. Eileen is Cliff’s youngest daughter.