Jackie -- Hope you can use this. It's so sad. PATHETIC INCIDENT -- (Special Correspondence) -- SAN FRANCISCO, December 13 -- Mr. and Mrs. Adolph Araya, who formerly lived at South Jackson, met wth a sad bereavement in the loss of their only son, Raymond Whitney, who died at the Children's Hospital in San Francisco on December 5th, aged 5 years, 1 month and 8 days. He was sick but about two weeks and taken December 1st to the hospital, where he rapidly grew worse, losing consciousness on the 4th, and never recovered. Those who read these lines and have lost dear ones know how hard it is to watch the fleeting breath growing fainter until the last breath is drawn, and loving hands close the eys and fold the little hands. But think what it must be to the poor parents, refugees now living in a camp, trying to bear with patience the weary waiting for news from the sick one. Midnight draws near; all is still at camp. But hark! There is a knock at the door. What is it? "Is this where Raymond Araya's folks live?" asked the policeman standing there. "Yes." "He is dying," is the sad message he comes to bring. It is late; no cars are running; no conveyances to be had, and the long hours drag slowly by until morning dawns and the grief-stricken parents can go to their darling. He was taken to the undertaking parlor, where services were held at 10 a.m. on Friday last. >From there the weeping ones slowly drive to the cemetery, and in the shady woods of Holy Cross cemetery, away from the noise and bustle of the busy world, they have laid him to rest. The little grave was covered with lovely flowers from kind friends in Oakland and Berkeley. The parent's bereavement is rendered doubly hard to bear by reason of the serious illness of their little daughter, Etta, who has been an inmate at the hospital for the past two months with typhoid fever. (S.H.B.) (Amador Dispatch, Dec. 14, 1906) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com