Rita Fineberg, 92, was born in New York on November 10, 1921 and passed away on November 20, 2013. Her family moved to Miami in 1936 where she lived for 64 years. Most recently, she lived in Daytona Beach for 13 years.She was the widow of Irving H. Fineberg and is survived by her four children:
Vallis Miller (Daytona Beach)
Gordon Fineberg (Daytona Beach)
Nancy and Simon Mendel (Longwood) and
Larry and Heleane Fineberg (Cocoa)
her five grandchildren:
Becky Miller Cartwright
John Miller
Shayna Mendel
Daniel Fineberg and
Alexis Fineberg
and four great-grandchildren:
Caitlyn Cartwright
Hunter WiselyMiller
Charlotte WiselyMiller and
Hannah Dunn
Many relatives and friends were fortunate to have been part of her life.
A Woman of Valor
Proverbs 31:10Excerpts
A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in herand lacks nothing of value.
She brings him good, not harm,all the days of her life.
She gets up while it is still night;she provides food for her family.
She considers a field and buys it;out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
She sets about her work vigorously;her arms are strong for her tasks.
She sees that her trading is profitable,and her lamp does not go out at night.
She opens her arms to the poorand extends her hands to the needy.
Her husband is respected at the city gate,where hetakeshis seat.
She is clothed with strength and dignity;she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her householdand does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;her husband also, and he praises her: "Many women do noble things,but you surpass them all."
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;but a woman who fearsthe Lord is praised.
Honor her for all that her hands have done,and let her works bring her praise.
This is what Rita requested:
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.
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