Alleyne, Evangelist Millicent Eulees

Alleyne, Evangelist Millicent Eulees
27 Oct
2017

Evangelist Millicent Eulees Alleyne Nee Small, affectionately known as “Baby Small”, of Corbin Land, Green Hill, St. Michael and formerly of Simons, St. Andrew, Daughter of the late Elizabeth and Gordon Small, Mother of Jeffery, Penelope and Arnon Alleyne, Sister of the late Muriel Boyce, Albertha Griffith and Elmo, Ruth, Evelyn, Claudius, Reuben Skeete and Eulese Barker, Grandmother of Steve, Tanya, Emmanuel, Shane, Jada and Seth Alleyne, Aunt of twelve, Relative of the Springer, Maynard, Watson, Small, Moore and Worrell families, Dearest Friend of Pastors Eileen Rowe, Inez and Sandra Ward, Gibson, S. Agard and Taylor, Deidre Chandler, Golda Blackman, David Whitaker, Stephen and Mrs. Murray

The funeral of Evangelist Millicent Eulees Alleyne Nee Small leaves L.R. Harris Funeral Home, Husbands, St. Lucy on Monday, September 11th 2017 at 9:00 a.m. for the United Pentecostal Council of the Assemblies of God, Bridge Gap, Goodland St. Michael, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 11:00 a.m. for the service. The cortege will then proceed to Coral Ridge Memorial Gardens for the burial.

In lieu of flowers, a donation to the Alzheimer association will be collected.

The body will repose at United Pentecostal Assemblies from 10:00 a.m. until the start of the service.

Musical tributes will commence at the Church from 10:00 a.m. until the start of the service.

Condolences may be sent to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

  • Stop all the clocks
    Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead, Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song, I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong' The stars are not wanted now, put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.