In 1902, some families of Joseph City, Arizona, traveled to Salt Lake City for two weddings: Preston A. Bushman to Anna Smith, and John L. Westover to Adele Bushman. Both couples were married on 1 October 1902.
Most of us buy our bedding ready-made these days – great expanses of soft wool or cotton or synthetic fiber, seamless, brightly colored. If we use quilts at all, they are as much for decoration or sentiment as for warmth. Do we remember that back in the day, our grandmothers pieced quilts, not from fat quarters bought by the dozens from fabric stores, but from scraps left over from cutting out home-sewn clothing, or from scraps salvaged from the less-worn parts of old clothing?
With war production taking over the woolen mills of the United States, few new blankets were available from commercial sources throughout World War II. The shortage lingered for several years after the war, as factories were gradually released to civilian production again. Even as late as 1948, when the Relief Society sisters of the Spanish-American Mission – under the direction of Ivie Huish Jones – needed flannel and other woolen cloth for quilting, not only to meet the needs of local members but also to fill their assigned quota of quilts to send to members in Europe, they could not secure enough fabric from merchants, even though they scoured sources in the five states covered by their mission.
There Is Still Time
By Margery S. Stewart
Synopsis: Elizabeth Anderson is disturbed by a strange dream in which she sees herself and her friend walking on crutches. She tells the dream to Brent, her husband, and explains to him that something is lacking in their lives. Brent, however, is so much interested in making money, that he does not want to understand Elizabeth’s plea. Grandmother Anderson comes to live with the family, and, during her illness, Elizabeth and the children begin to appreciate the blessings of sacrifice and service. Elizabeth succeeds in persuading the children to go with her to Sunday School and sacrament meeting, and she feels that, as a family, they are making progress, although she is heartsick at Brent’s indifference.
Sometimes her friends came with flowers and jelly and murmured polite phrases of regret, but Karen Jones, beautiful as a camellia, was frank in her disapproval.
Today’s posts are going up out of order. Because that’s the kind of morning it is …
The Church sent and received a lot of telegrams, transoceanic cablegrams, and radiograms in the days when long distance telephone calls were expensive and the mail system was too slow. The form for this radiogram, received in Salt Lake City in 1930, feels especially romantic with its list of exotic locales served, including “ships at sea.”
Sun. May 19, ’18
Held regular Sunday meetings.
Mon. May 20, ’18
Washed. Had the native girls commence weaving me a hat while they were waiting for one & another to finish their music lessons.
Small Tommy: “The teacher wanted to box my ears this morning.”
Grandpa: “How do you know he did?”
Small Tommy: “‘Cause he wouldn’t have boxed ’em if he hadn’t wanted to.”
There Is Still Time
By Margery S. Stewart
Synopsis: Elizabeth Anderson is disturbed by a strange dream in which she sees herself and her friends walking on crutches. She tells the dream to Brent, her husband, and explains to him that something is lacking in their family – a spiritual oneness. Brent, however, is so interested in making money that he does not wish to understand Elizabeth’s plea. Brent receives a letter from his brother David requesting that Brent take their mother into his home. Elizabeth surprises her husband and children by insisting that Grandmother Anderson is welcome to come and live with them, but after the grandmother arrives, Elizabeth realizes that living with her will not be easy.
Grandma Anderson was not to be awed by the size of the house, nor the swimming pool.
“Seems to me some people could make better use of their money,” she sniffed.
This is the cover of the hymnal published by Joseph Wilford Booth in Aleppo, Syria. Its 89 hymns are in the Turkish language, written in the Armenian alphabet. Some were local Christian hymns; others were Mormon favorites translated by Pres. Booth and other missionaries over the previous quarter century.
Jesse Edmund Simister (1876-1953), of Leeds, England, was baptized in 1897. At the time he wrote this testimony very early in 1917, he was and had been for some time the branch president of Leeds. He may not yet have received word of the death of his 16-year-old son, or it may have been written immediately after having received that sad news.
Brother Simister wrote several pieces during the war which will appear here at Keepa in the next little while. He survived the war to go home to his wife and five living children, all of whom, with their parents, eventually emigrated to the United States where they were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple.
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To a Lost Flyer
By Bessie Jarvis Payne
In memory of Captain Lee Jarvis Halling
Killed in action – May 5, 1944
Dedicated to his mother
Rose Jarvis Halling
Wings approaching in the sky,
Slowing as they pass me by,
Dipping now in brief goodbye –
O’er this home.
Wings against the azure deep,
Eager flight into the street,
Straining eyes that must not weep –
Till peace is won.
Wings upon the sun-splashed hills
Casting shadows o’er the rills,
Soaring high, as my heart thrills –
Then you’re gone.
Wings above the ocean’s foam
Winging far from friends and home.
Must you never cease to roam–
Broken wings in downward sweep,
Swiftly be the fate you meet,
Rest now in eternal sleep –
Oh, my son.
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