The Mormon Pioneers
By Gladys Quayle
(Sunderland [England] Branch)
Once more the clarion call goes forth
And those who hear obey,
The voice of God’s own Priesthood
In this glorious latter day;
For we are called to celebrate
With joy – and maybe tears –
The entry into Salt Lake of
The Mormon Pioneers.
A gallant band of people
Who were driven from Nauvoo,
And crossed the frozen river
With their feet oft frozen too;
They trekked across a continent
But had no doubts or fears,
They trusted God implicitly –
Those Mormon Pioneers.
Led by a Prophet of the Lord
Unto the Great Salt Lake –
They viewed the barren desert
With the sage brush in its wake;
’Twas here they’d find the freedom
Promised by their Prophet dear,
With grateful hearts they humbly prayed
Each Mormon Pioneer.
A mighty task awaited them
But they did not despair;
They made the desert flourish thro’
Their faith, work, and prayer;
They built a Temple to the Lord
Away from taunts and jeers
And commenced an ideal commonwealth
Those Mormon Pioneers.
Their task is now accomplished
Zion blossoms as the rose,
In the midst of Rocky Mountains
Where the Sego Lily grows;
And as we meet to celebrate
One hundred glorious years
Let’s remember all we owe to them –
The Mormon Pioneers.
A future United States Senator from Utah was a missionary in Japan in 1909 –
SUNDAY, DEC. 22, 1907
Regular Sunday meeting commenced at 2:15 P.M. Bishop Hart and Coun. Clark present; Bishop Hart conducting.
Choir sang hymn, “Earth with her ten thousand flowers” &c.; Opening prayer by Coun. Clark. Choir sang hymn, “Come O thou King of Kings” &c. Sacrament was administered by Elders I.W. Merrill and William Gray.
Elders Rowan and Jeffs, of Iona, were present as home missionaries, and occupied the time. Elder Rowan said it had been over 5 years since he has been here, sees some familiar faces here. Have great sympathy for people of this ward; do not know where ever treated better than here while traveling in ward as missionary.
Desire interest in prayers and faith, that may say something beneficial. We find if we go back as far as we can in history, find always needed assistance of spirit of God to teach them. Can go back to Adam, after his transgression Lord required him to offer sacrifice to God. God sent Noah to teach people; Noah teacher of righteousness; aught for 120 years trying to get people to follow path of truth and righteousness.
From the Relief Society Magazine, February 1953 –
Morning’s at Seven
By Mabel S. Harmer
Janey was not eavesdropping. She had been told to sit there on the porch and shell peas. If her mother had wanted to get her away she could easily have said, “Run down and gather some currants, Janey.” Or, “You may go and play now, dear. The peas can wait.” She did that often enough, when Mrs. Mathews came across the street to visit.
Janey was awfully glad that today wasn’t one of those times. She did so love to hear Mrs. Mathews talk. She knew absolutely everything about everybody and rolled the most delicious little bits of news off her tongue. It was easy to tell that she got real enjoyment just out of talking.
Here’s a light and frothy post as a break from the heavier fare of the first part of the week.
This puzzle comes from the Children’s Friend of November 1960 — and I suspect that the enlarged vocabularies of Keepa’ninnies can find words-beginning-with-B to identify more than the 18 words the magazine expected of its Primary children.
One word only, please, to allow others to play. After most have had a chance, we’ll open it up for you to add other solutions.
By Clarence Edwin Flynn
It is a shame upon us
That there should be a day
When we must seek protection
By locking things away.
If but the race were honest,
One could leave any store
By day or night, with never
A lock upon the door.
He could lie down to slumber
Unhindered till the dawn,
Knowing no hand would harm him,
Or anything be gone.
Perhaps we shall be neighbors
Again in years to be,
So honest that no coffer
Or house will need a key.
Sparked by the story pf Cora Birdsall and her worsening mental illness, this letter was shared with me. It is written in 1960, midway between Cora’s troubles and our own day. Besides its perspective on mental illness and suicide at that midpoint, it is an amazing glimpse into the thoughts of one LDS woman and her own day-to-day struggles.
Because identifying information has been removed/abbreviated for family privacy, please do not ask questions that might tend toward identification.
Monday, —, 1960
I know a hand written letter is so much more intimate, but I think so many things that when I try to put them down with pen and ink it turns out to be quite a mess. This way I can write twice as much to you anyway, though that may be doing you no favor in the long run.
The baby is in bed for his morning nap, the kitchen is cleaned up and still looks a mess, the washer is going on its second batch and it just dawned on me that I didn’t wash the gob of dishtowels that were hanging behind the door, the living room looks like the last rose of summer and is littered with every imaginable thing, and K is sitting here by me cutting out a funny paper and (wonder of wonder) is dressed and has her hair combed so at least I’ve accomplished a couple of things. Anyway, I’m ignoring everything and am going to get this letter written today if it is the last thing I do.
D. (my age) and her mother lived near enough each other that one dropped by the other’s house every few days. They shared a cup of coffee in the kitchen, caught each other up on family news, and generally enjoyed each other’s company for half an hour before going back to the business of the day. It wasn’t about the coffee, of course – they weren’t sampling different beans and writing reviews for anybody – but because they always drank that coffee, it was an important part of their mother-daughter ritual.
Then D. joined the Church; her mother did not. She wasn’t antagonistic, but was especially interested in discussing that part of her daughter’s new life. They still met in their kitchens every few days, with D. drinking something other than coffee, and they still discussed the growing grandchildren, but things were different, at least for D.’s mother. Their ritual had changed, and it seemed like Mormonism hung like an unexplored fog between them, no matter how much they loved each other and how much else they shared. D.’s mother recognized the change, and mourned it, even as she maintained the most loving of relationships with D.
I thought of that last week when Robert Kirby of the Salt Lake Tribune published a column, “How Much Pain Does Your Faith Cause?” which has been getting a moderate amount of love around Facebook over the weekend. I think the shares and comments of approval are probably based on the inference that Kirby is calling for love and tolerance and kum-ba-yah when a family member leaves the Church. That isn’t what he says, though – and I hate hate hate the wrongness of what he does say.
From the Relief Society Magazine, January 1954 –
By Louise Morris Kelley
“For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. if not so, my first-born in the wilderness, righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness, nor misery, neither good nor bad. Wherefore, all things must needs be a compound in one …” (2 Nephi 2:11)
Frankie was five years old, and he was not happy. We had hoped he was beginning to be, now that the lonely years were past … the days and years of moving from one temporary home to another – with his father in the service and his mother worried and unsettled.
Now his family was complete and solid, like a jigsaw puzzle with the center piece found. Now he belonged to a family, and Frankie had a kindergarten class of two dozen potential friends. Now surely, he should be happy.
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Cora Birdsall was excommunicated from the Church on 19 June 1903, for failing to comply with the decision of the Church courts that she deed 40 acres of her homestead to James E. Leavitt, for which he was to pay her $100. She received notice of the excommunication a few days later, on 23 June. That spring, Cora was living in Monroe, part of the time in her parents’ home and part of the time in the home of her friend, Seville Magleby (Mrs. Alma Magleby), a woman she had known since they were young teenagers.
According to Cora’s mother, Mary, “She never seemed right after the bishop’s trial at Monroe. I first noticed a change in her mental condition in the spring of 1903. She began to refuse to eat, and just worry and fret and grieve until she seemed to forget any other duties – went to grieving over the trouble that had been brought upon her. That was not natural for her. In my estimation, this was owing to the trouble, because that was all she seemed to worry over, and she spoke about it. she would go without eating for days and days at a time. After that went on for a while, she got so she would go to the hills, and I could not even get her back without help. She didn’t care for her person and dress at all – I had to care for her like a child (up to the time of the first trial, she was very strict about her person and dress).”
Cora grew worse. Seville Magleby reported, “I noticed that her conduct was peculiar. she was very restless at night – would get the people out at night and would talk about the devil having hold of her. That wasn’t like what she did before. Every time I would look up, she would be staring at me with wild looking eyes. She would just wander around, go in and out and carry on, writing her hands, moan, and passed around through the lot.
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