My Sister
In loving remembrance of Julia Hill Ivins, suddenly called Home, February 14, 1895
Two, of a household band,
Two, in the flush of youth,
Came hither from their home afar,
Led Zionward, by Faith’s bright star,
And love of God and Truth.
Boughs from a parent stem,
By sacred kinship wed,
Are parted—One of them
Is left, and One is dead. . . .
Hail, ransomed, cheery soul,
Rescued from earthly bands,
Uplifted from this world of ours,
Thou art at home amid the flowers
That bloom in fairer lands.
Thou art at home indeed
With friends, beloved of yore,
From all affliction freed—
Where vexing cares are o’er.
Restful, the blissful change,
Yet active still thou’lt be,
Thy useful efforts will not cease—
Rather love’s labors will increase
And bring more joy to thee.
Expanded is thy scope,
Exalted is thy sphere—
And yet we fondly hope
Thou wilt at times be near. . . .
Life’s span is short at best
Precious is time and fleet
Father, assist us, lest we fail,
Assist us, that we may prevail
And all our tasks complete!
Sweet Mercy shuts out none
From bliss, who’ve bravely striven;
To such is victory given
Through the Atoning One!
Triumphant words—Well done!
For life long toil, Divine amends,
Full compensation, true success
Comprising endless happiness
Shared with delightful friends.
Nevertheless today
In loneliness we bow
Lord, be our present stay
Uphold and cheer us NOW.4
Emily Hill Woodmansee
In June 1857, when she was just twenty-two years old, Emily married thirty-five-year-old handcart rescuer William Gill Mills as his second wife. William was a poet in his own right and had written the words to “Arise, O Glorious Zion,” found in the 1985 Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.5 He and his first wife, Louisa Avelina Sleater, did not have any children. In October 1859, Emily and William had a daughter, whom they named Avelina. William and Emily also adopted nine-year-old Sarah Alexandrina (Alexina) Bray, who had come across the plains in the 1855 Milo Andrus company, and whose mother had passed away in 1859.6 In 1860, William asked Brigham Young to send him on a mission to England,7 and Louisa went with him, leaving Emily, Avelina, and Alexina alone in Salt Lake City. Emily provided for herself, Avelina, and Alexina for four years by taking in boarders. At some point, whether in England or back in the states, William was excommunicated and subsequently wrote Emily renouncing polygamy, his marriage to her, and his child.8
Of that experience, Emily said: “No one can realize what such an ordeal is, unless they have passed through it. All that I had hitherto suffered seemed like child’s play compared to being deserted by the one in whom I had chosen to place the utmost confidence.”9 History of Utah states: “But she was a bright and capable business woman, and by her industry succeeded not only in supporting herself [and her children], but in purchasing a home.”10
In 1864, Emily married Joseph Woodmansee, with whom she had eight additional children, two of whom died as infants. She was his third wife. History of Utah gives an additional tribute to her: “Mrs. Woodmansee has seen many reverses, but her innate courage and ability have made her equal to all occasions. Her husband having lost heavily in mining speculations, she again entered upon a business career, and made a phenomenal success in real estate for several years.”11
In 1869, thirteen years after surviving the hardships of the crossing, Emily penned her feelings about “her sisters in Zion,” the women who had helped her and whom she had helped. She titled this ten-verse poem “Song of the Sisters of the Female Relief Society.” She originally set the song to the tune “Hail to the Brightness of Zion’s Glad Morning.”
Song of the Sisters of the Female Relief Society
[Words that are in the current hymn “As Sisters in Zion” are in brackets]
As sisters in Zion, we’ll all pull [work] together,
The blessings of God on our labors we’ll seek;
We’ll build up his Kingdom with earnest endeavor;
We’ll comfort the weary, and strengthen the weak.
We’ll turn from our follies, our pride and our weakness,
The vain, foolish fashions of Babel despise;
We’ll seek for the garments of truth and of meekness,
And learn to be useful and happy and wise.
We’ll wear what is sensible, neat and becoming
The daughters of Zion—the children of light;
We’ll work with a will, while the angels are scanning
Our aims and our actions from morning till night.
We’ll bring up our children to be self sustaining;
To love and to do what is noble and right;
When we rest from our labors, these dear ones remaining,
Will bear off the Kingdom and “fight the good fight.”
Nor shall our attention be wholly restricted
To training our children or shaping our dress;
The aged, the feeble, and poor and afflicted,
Our labors shall comfort, our efforts shall bless.
“The Lord hath established the cities of Zion,
The poor of his people are trusting in Him.”
He makes us a source for His poor to rely on;
Oh! shall we not brighten the eyes that are dim.
Oh! shall we not hasten to soothe the condition
Of the humble, the needy, the honest and pure?
Oh! let us remember, whate’er our amibition—
’Tis our duty, our mission, to comfort the poor.
’Tis the office of Angels, conferred upon woman;
[The errand of angels is given to women,]
And this is a Right that, as woman, we claim;
[And this is a gift that, as sisters, we claim;]
To do whatsoever is gentle and human;
To cheer and to bless in humanity’s name.
How vast is our vision; how wondrous our mission,
[How vast is our purpose, how broad is our mission,]
If we but fulfill it in spirit and deed.
Oh, naught but the Spirit’s divinest tuition
Can give us the wisdom to truly succeed.
Then, as sisters in Zion, we’ll all pull together,
The blessings of God on our labors we’ll seek;
We’ll build up his Kingdom with earnest endeavor;
We’ll comfort the weary, and strengthen the weak.12
This poem resided unnoticed in the Church archives for over 116 years, until 1985, when the Hymn Book Executive Committee under the direction of Brother Michael Moody searched for a suitable theme for the sisters of the Relief Society. Emily’s poem was located, taken out, and put to music by Janice Kapp Perry. The new hymn, which is to be sung “resolutely,” is entitled “As Sisters in Zion” and now serves as something of an anthem for the women of the Church. It is Hymn No. 309 in the 1985 edition of the Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The hymn’s inclusion in the hymnal is a direct fulfillment of the promise made to young Emily in th
e priesthood blessing given to her by Elder John Halliday prior to leaving England that if she would remain faithful to her testimony of Jesus Christ throughout her life, she would influence the world by the thousands through her prose and verse.13 Perhaps she has influenced millions, not merely thousands, as her song is sung in languages across the world.
Emily was faithful throughout her life to her testimony of Jesus Christ. Her poetry was published in the Improvement Era, the Young Woman’s Journal, and the Women’s Exponent, and the 1927 LDS Church hymnbook contained eight of her hymns (see pages 73 through 80). She passed away October 6, 1906, at the age of seventy.
Notes Chapter Six: “Oh, Naught but the Spirit’s Divinest Tuition”
Epigraph: Woodmansee, “My Sister,” in Abegg, Poetry of Emily Woodmansee, 281.
^1. Ririe, “Life Story of Martha Webb Campkin Young.”
^2. Allphin, Tell My Story, Too, 53.
^3. Patriarchal blessing of Julia Hill Ivins, given October 31, 1870, St. George, Utah. Copy in possession of author.
^4. Woodmansee, “My Sister,” in Abegg, Poetry of Emily Woodmansee, 281–83.
^5. William G. Mills, “Arise, O Glorious Zion,” in Hymns (1985), no. 40.
^6. “Alexandrina Bray.”
^7. Woodmansee in Crocheron, Representative Women of Deseret, 86–87.
^8. Ibid., 86.
^9. Ibid., 87.
^10. Whitney, History of Utah, 594.
^11. Ibid.
^12. Woodmansee, “Song of the Sisters of the Female Relief Society,” in Abegg, Poetry of Emily Woodmansee, 405.
^13. Woodmansee in Crocheron, Representative Women of Deseret, 85.
Chapter Seven
“To Cheer and to Bless in Humanity’s Name”
Tis the office of Angels, conferred upon woman;
and this is a Right that, as woman, we claim;
To do whatsoever is gentle and human;
To cheer and to bless in humanity’s name.
—Emily Hill Woodmansee
During a particularly difficult time in my life, when I was seeking comfort and direction through prayer, I had a dream about my great-great-grandmother Julia Hill and her sister Emily.
In my dream, I saw Julia and Emily stranded in the snow near the windy summit of Rocky Ridge in western Wyoming with others in the Willie handcart company. The young women were shivering from the cold, and Julia was sitting down in the snow. It was clear that she had reached the end of her endurance and was unable to go on. Her younger sister, Emily—who was herself freezing—lifted Julia to her feet. Julia began to weep, but no tears came, only soft whimpering sounds. Emily lovingly wrapped her arms around her sister, and together they made their way slowly to their handcart and continued the torturous climb up Rocky Ridge.
I do not know if the dream was an accurate depiction of what they actually experienced, but, to me, that is not important. Certainly the trauma that the members of the Willie and Martin handcart companies experienced was real, as we have learned from so many firsthand journal sources.
What is important is the lesson I learned. I was able to see clearly the parallel between their struggle and the one I was going through. Though what I was struggling to resolve was not as dramatic or as life-threatening as their crisis, I witnessed how the sisters strengthened each other as well as their friend Martha and her children. Their example of courage strengthened me and helped me through my own challenge.
Where did this little band of sisters find the remarkable courage, determination, and strength to make this epic journey and travel through the rugged plains and mountains alone? I believe they drew from each other as believers in Christ and His Atonement and as they took care of each other’s needs, as “sisters in Zion” should.
As sisters we have enough, and even an abundance, to help and lift our fellow sisters. The Lord has put into our hearts the natural desire to lighten the load of our neighbors and sisters. As the hymn says, we are “to cheer and to bless in humanity’s name.” That is the responsibility we bear as daughters of God in our era or season on the earth. We are under an obligation now, as the Saints were then, to become “as one” by serving each other in an hour of need. How nobly, how faithfully, how bravely we must serve to bring our sisters home.
This is not just a general obligation that has been laid upon us—to have some vague awareness of faceless, nameless, suffering women around the world. As President Dieter F. Uchtdorf has instructed us, we are to “lift where we stand.”1 Think of the needy women in your sphere of influence: The neighbor who is struggling as a single mother to rear her children; the older woman down the street who is widowed and living in solitary loneliness; or the troubled young woman in the ward who is in desperate need of a loving mentor.
As we pass through our own journeys here in life and climb our own Rocky Ridges, as we suffer, and we grow, and we learn, we must look beyond ourselves and help others. This is what Jesus instructed Peter to do—repeating the instruction three times, ensuring that Peter could not misunderstand (see John 21:15–17). I wonder if the Savior might have felt something like this: “Peter, you are falling behind here; I know you love me, but remember that this life experience is not only about you, Peter. If you truly love me, then learn to serve, teach, and lift others even while you are also suffering.”
Was this not the very example that Jesus Christ himself was setting for Peter and all of us as well? It is good to remember that before Jesus Christ taught Peter this important lesson, he first fed Peter fish to satisfy his hunger. He served Peter. His message was: “Come, follow me,” do as I do, serve as I serve, and love and watch over one another.
Several years ago, a wonderful artist named William Whitaker painted a picture of the Hill sisters (see Frontispiece). Though it depicts Julia and Emily obviously suffering under the demands of the moment, the noble young women exhibit in this painting a patient and determined feminine strength. They seem to look through time directly at us and say: “Be faithful, dear sisters, in your trials today; be true to the Savior Jesus Christ who prepared the Way for you, who gave His life for you, and who offers you all things if you are faithful. Be grateful for His enabling Atonement, which can cleanse and quicken each individual sister to a higher level of humanity, a higher level of spirituality, and which can glorify us to become even as He is. As we love God with all our heart, might, mind and strength, maybe we can serve and love our sisters as we love ourselves.”
This is exactly what Emily penned in her famous poem:
’Tis the office of Angels, conferred upon woman;
and this is a Right that, as woman, we claim;
To do whatsoever is gentle and human;
To cheer and to bless in humanity’s name.2
She is urging us to be more Christlike individuals—to learn how to pray to God with the best part of us, parting the veil through our obedience, virtue, and the humble words that we send up unto Him daily.
It is interesting how truth is preserved by the faithful for the faithful to find in future years. It is as living breadcrumbs through time that nourish those who are seeking truth. Those who were faithful previously on this earth prepare the way for their brothers and sisters who are coming along later, that these latter-day Saints might be lifted and strengthened in their journey through life. The story of their struggle can also strengthen and encourage sisters across the world today to reach beyond themselves and serve their sisters in need.
If we truly love our God and love and serve our sisters as well, we are destined to become of one heart and therefore to become His. We have the capacity to save others, and they will echo Emily’s profound expression of gratitude for those who came to alleviate her need and hopelessness in her poem “Hunger and Cold”: “They sought us, and found us, thank God for their pains.”3
In his in
spiring book To the Rescue, President Thomas S. Monson issued a call to go out to rescue and save our modern-day, spiritually starving sisters who are languishing on the plains of hopelessness, heartache, and despair.
Throughout my life I have witnessed or participated in many such rescues, and I testify that it is a thrilling, fulfilling, and wonderful work.
My mother suffered from the ravages of Alzheimer’s disease for nine years. During that difficult time, my father and my five sisters and I shared the sacred responsibility to care for and assist her. As the time of her passing neared, the seven of us were with her day after day, seeing to her needs. When she finally slipped through the veil, we experienced a tremendous sweetness and exhilaration. We reveled in the closeness we felt as family and as sisters and were profoundly grateful that we had been privileged to work together to serve and to alleviate the suffering of one woman, Dad’s sweetheart, and our dear mother.
Not long ago, there was a particularly demanding time in the ward where I lived. Several members of the ward were going through illness, death, and a variety of other discouraging circumstances. Under the direction of our good bishop, the Relief Society sisters participated in an unusually large number of compassionate service projects. Our purpose was to help alleviate the suffering of people who were sick, of families that had lost loved ones, and of sisters who simply needed “a sisterhood” and a listening ear in times of trouble.
The service we provided wasn’t unusual; Relief Society sisters all over the world often provide the same kind of loving care. We made simple meals to feed the hungry and homemade greeting cards and quilts for those who needed comfort. We brought a tree and provided simple Christmas presents for a young family whose baby boy had died, and we arranged for homecare nurses from our ward to call on those who were suffering from cancer and other illnesses. We made certain our Relief Society meetings were accessible to all and held them in places that allowed even the sick to attend and participate. We provided the most comfortable chairs in the room to those who were suffering most to ensure that they were a part of the sweet and strengthening messages. We washed clothes and babysat, and the more we served, the greater the love we felt for each other: tall and short, young and old, single and married, widowed and divorced—different, yet exactly the same, and in our service to each other we really felt like sisters. The Spirit was always near during our service for we were on God’s compassionate errand.
As Sisters in Zion Page 4