It was while at this camp, that Maggie began to feel the pains of the disease which eventually took her life. In the spring she returned home. She soon was so ill the doctor could no longer help her—she had cancer. However, it was kept from her until about two months before her death.

Little Maggie, who had made life so pleasant for so many others, was suffering now the tortuous pains of cancer! She had such a lot of faith and had tried to rear her children in the love of the Gospel, though because of her distance from the meeting house and the type of work she was engaged in (dairying), she had been deprived of many Church activities herself. Little Maggie who was honest to a fault, and fearless in defending the right, who did not hesitate to tell people what she thought and how she felt, whether or not it be to their liking. A small, brown-haired, blue-eyed woman who had myriads of friends both male and female, was now faced with a cruel enemy whom she couldn’t fight. Still a young woman—in her early forties—she had lived a full and happy life. She had a good kind husband and a lovely family. But her family was still very young! How she hated the thoughts of leaving them!

George, who had been bishop in Colonia Juarez for 12 years, now gave it up and took his wife to Utah, hoping to find Dr. Blackburn, whom he hoped could help her before it was too late. However, the journey was so long and strenuous, that Maggie died before she reached the doctor. She died near Loa, Utah, on October 19, 1897, and her husband took her to Panguitch and buried her there in his family plot, near his first wife, Phoebe.