In the hallowed halls of discipline, your legacy remains;
Pastor Mrs. Ann Jacobs, in life's lessons, you refrain. With a stern but loving
hand, you sculpted character strong.
Your discipline was a melody in each child's life song. Early
mornings echoed with wisdom's embrace, Lessons of diligence, hard work, and
grace. In the tapestry of routine, you wove values deep, Teaching respect,
integrity, and promises to keep.
Your kitchen was a classroom of life's essential art, Where
humility was learned, and kindness had its start. Through the pages of books
and the night's prayers, you fostered a love for learning, a beacon of light.
In the garden of guidance, you nurtured seeds of dreams, Instilling ambition
and resilience in silent streams. Your legacy is a testament to the strength
within; each discipline is a brushstroke on the canvas of kin. For 45 years as
a widow, you bore the weight with grace, A matriarch molding destinies, leaving
a lasting trace. So, in the tapestry of time, we, your children, proudly stand,
Shaped by disciplines profound, guided by your hand. Mom, in disciplines so
true, we reflect the love you knew.
In the quiet moments and the stories we share, We feel your
love, your warmth in the air. Mom, though you physically part, In the chambers
of our hearts, you live as a work of art.
Happy posthumous birthday, a tribute sincere to a mother, a
pastor, always cherished, always near.
With love
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