There are times when one of our Facebook posts from prior years will be resurrected, a part of someone’s Facebook memories, brought to mind by a Facebook notification, and shared by that someone because, for whatever reason, it spoke to them again.  Occasionally, that old post will take on a new life—as is currently the case with the heartbreaking, heartwarming story of Vivian May Allison.

At the time of her death, Vivian was the only child of Horace Dean and Carrie Hulda Young Allison.  Seven years after losing little Vivian, they had another child—a second daughter they named Lovell.  Life was somewhat kinder to her; she married in 1928 but never blessed Horace and Carrie with grandchildren.  Eighty-nine years after her birth she was laid to rest in Tavares Cemetery in Tavares, Florida.

It was October 28, 1899 when Vivian fell ill.  For two days their family doctor tended to her in every possible manner, but on October 30 ^th –at the tender age of 5—she succumbed to the cerebro-spinal fever that her death certificate says claimed her life.  At the time her father had been building a doll house for her.  It was to be her Christmas present, a surprise for his little girl . . . a labor of love that now had no one to receive it.  But Horace decided to continue his work, so while he finished the house itself, Vivian’s mother began the task of making it a true home, sewing curtains and bedspreads and crafting rugs to warm the floors.  When their masterpiece was finally completed they placed it at their daughter’s grave, filled it with the toys and trinkets she had loved in life, and cared for it for almost 70 years.

Vivian’s mother died in 1969; Horace had died 23 years before.  She was buried next to her husband who had been buried next to Vivian, and care of the house was entrusted to Lovell.  She tended to it for as long as she could, but age and distance and, eventually, Death interfered.  So the house fell into disrepair, a sad testament to a family line that had drawn to a close.

But the people of Connersville, Indiana—people who never knew the Allison family—loved that little house, just as Horace and Carrie had loved it.  They realized it was far more than a tourist-generating curiosity (although it was that) . . . it was a monument to a child lost too soon, the symbol of a mother and father’s love . . . and of their grief.  So the people of Connersville repaired the house, stripping away years of dirt and paint, returning it to the original clean, crisp white (that had, over the years, been gray or purple or blue or white with hunter green trim), preserving the original nails, woodwork, and tin roof, and watching over it as though it was their own.

You can still see the house today, nestled beside the monument that marks the graves of Carrie, Horace, and Vivian.  The toys and the trinkets are still inside, as is a miniature portrait of Vivian that graces the wall—hanging close to the bed that sits in front of a large glass window—lovingly placed there over 120 years ago as the final touch to Vivian’s gift.

About the author:  Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926.  She has been employed at Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 40 years and currently serves as the manager there.  Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone, and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.

The post Vivian’s Gift appeared first on Shackelford Funeral Directors | Blog.