Nat Smith

SMITH Nat Like as the wind upon the field Blows every herb, and all must yield, So we beneath Time's passing breath Bow each in turn - why tears for birth or death? Remembering too your late, dear mum. From now on we shall always think of you both as eternally at one. All our love, as always and forever, Dad and Anna


Search announcements

Get announcements by email

By signing up you agree to our Terms.

We respect your privacy and won’t share your data.