Funeral services are being conducted this afternoon at two o'clock at the Ohde Funeral Home for Mrs. Carsten Hoffmann, who died at the McCoy Nursing Home, Des Moines. The Rev. Arthur Raeside has charge of the services, with music furnished by Mrs. Nick C. Schrum, Mrs. Albert Dietz, H.C. Pahde and Clifford M. Johnson, accompanied by Mrs. Henry Hagedorn.

Burial will be in the Manning cemetery, with Julius Wehrmann, C. J. Claussen, Dick Fonken, George B. Jones, P.H. Jones and R.H. Kuhl as pallbearers.

Complications attendant to her advanced age resulted in the death of Mrs. Hoffmann, who had been in declining health for several years.

Margaret Hoffmann, nee Luetje, daughter of Hans and Cecilia Luetje, was born in Schacht near Rendsburg in the Province of Holstein Germany, on February 2, 1854. She came to America in 1872, to Davenport, Iowa, where she was married in 1874 to Henry Schlapkohl, later moving to St. Louis, where Mr. Schlapkohl died in 1889.

Mrs. Hoffmann came to Manning in 1893, where she was married to Mr. Carsten Hoffmann on April 2, 1894. Mr. Hoffmann passed away about 25 years ago.

Since then Mrs. Hoffmann lived alone, until failing health overtook her and she was taken to a nursing home on April 1, 1942, where she passed away on Monday afternoon August 9, 1943, at Des Moines, Iowa at the age of 89 years.

She was baptized in the Lutheran faith.

Mrs. Hoffmann leaves to mourn her departure, her two sisters, Mrs. Anna Johansen of Elkton, S. Dakota, and Mrs. Mary Petersen of Davenport, Iowa; three grandchildren of Mr. and Mrs. Heckman residing in Los Angeles, California and nieces, Mrs. Alfred Jones of Huron, S.D., Mrs. Elsie Byington, Omaha; Mrs. E.E. Breckenridge, Mrs. John Frahm and Mrs. H.J. Vogt, Manning; and a nephew, John Reimers of Spokane, Wash.

In Remembrance of MRS. CARSTEN HOFFMANN
Died August 9, 1943

I looked into that lifeless face,
The folded hands across the breast,
The snowy shroud all trimmed with lace,
Her race was run and now sweet rest.
And then I thought as I stood there
How strange is it that all must die,
And life goes out we know not where,
In rounded grave the shell must lie.
Yet life alone could not impart
The love of good that she had shown
Through all her life, the tender heart
That cheered and helped whom she had known.
This form with life could move and yet
Twas more than form and life she had
To help her course through life to set,
To choose the good and not the bad.
Then once again was forced on me
The vital part which spirit takes
In shaping life, makes life to be
What He has planned, within us wakes
Something apart from life and breath,
A force that lives in every man
From dawn of life and after death,
And adds to life what naught else can.
Yes, form and features turn to dust
When life and spirit leave the frame,
But spirit never dies and must
Return again from whence it came
In form a mist or breath-of air,
A shapeless thing no one would know,
Or clothed with spirit-body fair,
To spirit realms it then will go.
Her life had held much stress and storm,
But in this comfort we may share
When death o'ertakes this earthly form,
We just live on though free from care
But when thus changed we then shall know
Some things while here we could not see
That there the spirit one may grow
To be what here she longed to be.
So folded hands across the breast,
Life at an end, its tasks all done,
In death a symbol is of rest,
Though endless life has just begun.
So do not think your loved one dead,
Just gone ahead a little while
Or look at death with chilling dread
Some day she'll greet you with her smile.
Contributed