In Memory of




Obituary for Daisy Aurelia Skinner

Daisy Aurelia Skinner

Born November 23rd, 2020

“This is Daisy Aurelia Skinner. She was so perfect she couldn't stay here on this earth, but we know she's again with our Heavenly Father and we'll be with her forever. Thanks for all of your love, support, and prayers.

We love you all.” - Colby Skinner

This is the poem Daisy’s mother, Jane Skinner read at her funeral

The White Rose by Myrna Cox

All mothers were gathered together at God’s garden of flowers. The earth’s beautiful budding spirits, who would someday come to earth, were nurtured and tended in the garden.

A loving Father spoke to the mothers, “See the works of my hands. Someday you will be the mothers of these radiant spirits.”

The garden glowed with a mixture of all kinds and colors. “Choose you.” He said.

Now in the east corner of the garden, pure White Roses stood as sentinels. They were not so colorful as the rest, but they glowed with a kind of purity, which set them apart. One by one the mothers stepped forward.

“I want the blue eyed, curly haired one, who will grow to maturity and be a mother in Zion.”

Yet another chose a brown eyed, brown haired boy, full of life and love, who would someday be a prince in a grand country. The garden buzzed with excitement as the others chose their special spirits. Those whom they would soon welcome into the love and warmth of an earthly home.

Once again the loving Father spoke. “But who will take the White Roses? The ones in the east corner of my garden. These will return to me in purity and goodness. They will not stay long in your home, for I must bring them back to my garden. For they belong to me. But they will gain bodies as was planned. You will miss them and long for them, but I will personally care for them.”

“No, not I.” many said in unison. “I couldn’t bear to give one back so soon.” “Nor I.” said others. “We will take those who will remain and grow to maturity and live long lives.”

The Father looked out across the multitude of mothers with a longing in His eye for someone to step forward and speak. Silence.

Then He said, “See the most pure and perfect of the white ones? I chose Him. He will go down and be a sacrifice for all mankind. He will be scorned, mocked, and crucified. He is mine own. Will not anyone of you choose like unto Him?

A few mothers stepped forward, “Yes, Lord I will.” Then another, “I will as well.” “Yes, we will Lord”

Soon all the pure White Roses were chosen and they rejoiced in the choices of their mother.

The Father spoke again, “Oh, blessed are you who chose the White Roses. For your pain will be a heavy cross to bear. But your joy will be exceeding, beyond anything you can understand at this time.”

The white ones embraced their mothers and so full was their purity and love that it filled their souls with such endearment. Each mother knew that they could endure the task and the greatest of all the white ones gathered them as a hen gathers her chicks.

The outpouring of love surrounded each mother and child, consuming all the white ones as He prepared them for their task. And each mother who bore the weight of the white rose would feel the overwhelming love of God as they all shouted, “Thy will be done.”