However, as the meeting went on, she began to realize that through it all, puzzling and unorthodox as it was, she wasn’t offended. It was simple, reverent, and—she searched for a good word. Uplifting. Yes, it was uplifting. Somewhat disconcerting, too, but uplifting.
When the soldier finished, President Schindler stood up. After a moment of glancing at some notes on the lectern, he looked up and began to speak. “My dear brothers and sisters, I have assigned myself to be our concluding speaker today, for I have news from our mission president, President Angus Cannon. We also have news from Salt Lake City.”
Emilee frowned. She had no idea what so many of their words and phrases meant. Inga must have seen her expression, because she leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Salt Lake City is the headquarters of our Church. It’s in America.”
Emilee nodded, grateful for these little enlightening explanations.
“I have received a copy of a letter from Präsident Cannon addressed to all district and branch presidents in the Swiss-German Mission. Though President Cannon was called and sent here in late 1916, we have not seen him for the past few years because he is an American citizen, and travel to Germany was, of course, not possible for Americans during that time.”
Emilee’s head came up. “An American?” she whispered to Inga. “I thought they were our enemies.”
Inga smiled. “Maybe politically, but not in the Church.”
President Schindler was continuing. “Präsident Cannon is seeking permission from Berlin to enter Germany and visit all of the branches and districts in the mission so that he can assess for himself how things are with us. So far his request has been denied, but he promises to continue trying to get that permission. He is especially anxious to learn how Salt Lake City can help us. He wishes to commend all members in Germany for their faithfulness through these difficult times.”
The president paused and took off his spectacles. He was sober and thoughtful as he seemed to be collecting his thoughts. Then he continued. “Though our Church is thought of as an American church, because its beginnings were in America, we believe that all who join the kingdom of God become members of a brotherhood and sisterhood that transcends national boundaries. Many people in Germany and in America still consider our peoples to be mortal enemies. But we do not. Nor do our brothers and sisters in the gospel who live in America consider us their enemies. Some may find that hard to believe, but it is true.”
He picked up a letter from the pulpit and held it up. “I have here the letter from Präsident Cannon. As I said, he and his wife have been in Europe since 1916, which I am sure has caused their family back home much anxiety. I should like to read you some of what he says as evidence of the power of the gospel brotherhood and sisterhood we feel in the Church.”
He put on his spectacles and began to read. “‘We have learned that in many places in Germany the Saints are in urgent need of clothing—shoes, underwear, and suits of all kinds. The Saints in Switzerland give all the help they can, but it is not enough. They too have suffered deprivations because of the war and their means are limited.’”
He lowered the letter for a moment. “I remind you that many of these Saints in Switzerland sided with the Allies and against Germany in the war, even though their country remained neutral. Still, they reach out to us even in their own shortages.”
Emilee, wondering if what he had just said could be true, looked at Paula and Inga, but neither of them seemed at all surprised. President Schindler continued.
“‘It would be a great blessing if the folks at home could gather up their old things and ship them directly to Hamburg. And I have written to Salt Lake suggesting that the Church formally encourage our members to do that as rapidly as possible. Our Saints here particularly need warm clothing, for they have not been able to purchase much in the last five years. Now, only those with plenty of money can buy new things. A good brother in Germany recently wrote and said that he must now work half a month to earn enough to buy a good pair of shoes. It is so cold in Germany. And it will get colder. I am afraid to think what will happen to our people in another winter if we do not get help. It’s terrible that we should have so much at home and they have so little.’”
President Schindler again lowered the letter as he sighed deeply. “Meine Brüder and Schwestern, these are the words of an American citizen. I ask you: does that sound like the voice of an enemy? Is this a message of hate and retaliation and revenge? Nein! Listen to this next part.”
“‘We are constantly receiving reports from our members in Germany of great suffering and hardship. We are especially concerned when we hear of young children who are desperately sick with tuberculosis, malnutrition, and other afflictions. We weep when we hear of such things, and we feel a great sense of urgency about this matter. Therefore, I am asking that all branch presidents identify those children who are critically ill and send us their names and addresses immediately. We have secured permission from both the Swiss and German governments to bring those children to Basel, where we here in the mission home stand ready to care for them until they are restored to their full health. Salt Lake City has authorized me to use mission funds for this rescue effort and to begin purchasing food for our people who are in most critical need.’”
That brought murmurs of surprise and joy from the congregation. Emilee was stunned, scarcely able to believe what she was hearing. This from an American? This from their recent enemies? Unbelievable. But what came next was even more stunning.
“‘The Church has learned,’” President Schindler continued, “‘that there are tons of food and other commodities purchased for the American army during the war that are now surplus and sitting in dozens of railway cars in France. Salt Lake City is currently negotiating with Washington to purchase those commodities and distribute them to our members in Germany.”
Emilee gaped at him. Dozens of railways cars? What will that cost them? Who were these people?
The president laid the letter down and removed his glasses. His eyes were glistening as he looked around at his congregation. “How gratifying it is to belong to a Church that remembers their own. But, my beloved brothers and sisters, as you heard, this will take time. It may be summer, or even fall, before we see it. So we too must act. We too must follow the example the Church is setting.”
He paused, deep in thought. It was clear to Emilee that he was not reading a prepared sermon. Another surprise. “In the book of Acts, the Apostle Peter described the Master with one simple, but deeply profound, statement. He said that Jesus ‘went about doing good.’ There is our example, Brüder and Schwestern. That is what we are called to do. Even in the midst of war, even now in the terrible aftermath of war, I believe that God expects us to follow the example of His Son and to do good in any way we can. These do not have to be grand and marvelous deeds. Sometimes it can be as simple as a smile, reaching out to those who sorrow, feeding the hungry, remembering the poor, or visiting those who are afflicted.”
He sighed, letting his eyes move from face to face. His gaze was so penetrating that Emilee wanted to look away, but she could not. And she sensed that no one else could either.
“I know that many of us are living in great hardship. Food is scarce. Unemployment is rampant. There is much sickness and suffering among us. Many of us have lost loved ones. Some of you cannot give because you have nothing to give. But that is not true of all.
“So once again, as we have on previous Sundays, I ask of you to sit down as families and counsel together. Examine your circumstances and resources to see if there is anything more you can do to bless those in need. Your response thus far has been both astonishing and humbling to me. Without revealing names, let me give you two examples of what I am talking about.” He turned and gestured to the pile of boxes, cans, sacks, and bottles in the corner. “Many of you have brought food and clothing and other necessities to share with our branch members. One of those contributions is eighty pounds of cheese.” He went on quickly over the
gasps that exploded all around him. “That is enough for about two pounds of cheese for each person here. A tremendous blessing to us all.
“Yet, someone else brought a half of a cup of sugar, which was the last sugar their family had. But they felt that someone here needed it more than they did. That is what I am talking about. We do not expect you to take food from your children’s mouths and bring it here. All we ask is that you do what you can. If you have nothing more to give from your pantries or from your closets, then give someone a kind word, a prayer, a helping hand.”
Emilee, who to her surprise felt tears trickling down her cheeks, looked quickly at Inga and Paula, who were on either side of her. Both were also crying. Inga, seeing Emilee look over, reached out and took her hand. Paula quickly took the other.
President Schindler picked up a book with a black leather cover. He opened it, looking for a particular place. From its cover, Emilee assumed it was the New Testament. She was wrong.
“Perhaps my favorite of all the scriptures that describe what it means to be true followers of Christ is found in the Book of Mormon. As you will remember, numerous people had come to a prophet named Alma and asked to be baptized of him. He asked them this question: ‘Are [you] willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are [you] willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and [to] comfort those that stand in need of comfort?’”
He closed the book and leaned forward. “I leave it to each of you to answer that question for yourselves. But I pray that each of us may, as the Savior did, go about doing good. And I ask that in the name of our Beloved Savior, even Jesus Christ, Amen.”
11:48 a.m.—Near Herrnstrasse, Obermenzing District, Munich
They were pretty quiet on the walk home. Well, not Gretl and Bruno, of course. They chattered away about their friends at church and about school and a dozen other topics. But Emilee, Paula, and Inga were all pretty subdued. Emilee guessed that she was the topic of their thoughts and that they were dying to ask her what she thought about her experience, but she wasn’t ready to talk yet. Now, as they approached the street where Paula and Wolfie lived, she decided it was time.
“Do you always have members of the congregation give the sermons?” Emilee asked.
Paula and Inga exchanged quick glances. Paula deferred to her older sister. “Yes,” Inga said. “We are a lay church, which means that we do not have a paid clergy.”
“You mean Präsident Schindler is not an ordained minister?”
Inga smiled. “Not in the sense you mean. He has authority to preside, much like a priest or a pastor, but he is actually a shoemaker by trade. And all of us have what we term ‘callings’ in the Church. Some of us teach children, some work with the adult women in what we call our Relief Society, and so on. I don’t have a calling that requires me to be here on Sunday, because I cannot come to Munich every week. But the president has asked me to write regularly to the widows in the ward to make sure their needs are being met. It is not a grand calling, but it lets me be of service.”
“And do you give sermons?” Emilee asked incredulously. “I would be terrified to do that.”
Paula laughed. “I do. Only we don’t call them sermons, we just call them talks. But yes, I’ve spoken in the branch twice now. And yes, I was terrified.”
Inga was shaking her head. “Because I am so far away, I have not been asked yet, but . . .” She looked at Emilee. “But I am terrified too,” she said with a smile.
They fell silent again. As they turned onto Herrnstrasse and they could see Paula’s house up ahead, Inga spoke up. “Do you have any other questions?”
Emilee’s lips pursed for a moment. “Actually, I do. I . . . To be honest, I was absolutely astonished by what happened today. Asking people with nothing to do something good for others was . . . I can’t even find a word that expresses it. Someone giving his last cup of sugar to someone who is ‘really in need’?”
“Actually, it was half a cup,” Paula teased.
Emilee barely heard her. “What was that last scripture he read? That was amazing.”
To Emilee’s surprise, Inga reached in her purse and extracted a book with a black leather cover.
“Is that the same book Präsident Schindler had?” Emilee asked.
“Yes. It’s called the Book of Mormon.” Inga opened it and thumbed quickly through the pages. Then she handed it to Emilee, pointing at a spot that was underlined. “This is what he read.”
Emilee took it and read it slowly. There was more underlined than what he had read, but she quickly found the verses he had cited. “I love that concept,” she murmured. She read on for a moment, concentrating hard. Finally, she closed the book and handed it back.
“You’re welcome to keep it for a while,” Inga murmured.
Emilee shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I have quite enough to think about right now.”
Chapter Notes
There was a branch of the Church established in Munich as early as 1869 (see Mormonism in Germany, 26). According to the general minutes of the Munich Branch in the LDS Church History Library archives (call #LR 5883 11), it was located on Sofallingstrasse until 1919, and Anton Schindler was probably the branch president at that time. He served for thirty years in that position. The first chapels constructed by the Church in Germany seem to have been in the early 1950s (see Mormonism in Germany, 156). Existing buildings were probably purchased for meetinghouses before that time, but in the early history of the Church there, branches typically met in rented facilities. There is no information about the building in Munich, so the Yellow Onion Restaurant is my creation.
The talk given here by President Schindler is not based on any known speech. However, we do know that branch presidents throughout Germany at time encouraged their members to help other members in need. The letter he reads from President Cannon is largely based on a letter Cannon wrote to the First Presidency, which was later published in Der Stern (“The Star”), the German-language magazine published in Germany for many years (see Der Stern, 52:36–38; translated into English and inserted in Swiss-German Mission Manuscript History, 1 February 1920). The letter was written a few months later than is shown here.
President Cannon did undertake an effort to bring seriously ill children to Switzerland, where they were treated in the mission home by mission staff. Eventually about a dozen children were rescued through this program (see Mormons and Germany, 80–81).
February 15, 1919, 1:45 p.m.—EDW Ranch, Monticello, San Juan County, Utah
Long before she and Mitch were married, Edna Rae Zimmer—known to everyone as Edie—had worried about her ability to have children. Her mother had been the only child to live out of four births. Edie was the oldest of three children and was the only one who had not died shortly after birth. When she miscarried about four months after she and Mitch were married, the fears came roaring back. When she passed the fourth month of her next pregnancy without incident, she was ecstatic. Two months later, through a tragic series of events that led to a hard fall, she gave birth to a perfectly formed baby girl who never took a breath.
After a special fast and a priesthood blessing from Mitch, his father, and Bishop Frederick I. Jones, Edie gave birth to a robust boy they named Mitchell Arthur Westland Jr. Mitch Jr. raised their hopes that the problem had been solved. However, as Mitch Jr. approached his second birthday, Edie lost another baby at four months. The following year she carried a little girl to full term and named her Rena, after her paternal grandmother. A second girl followed three years later but lived only two days and was buried in the cemetery next to her unnamed sister.
Finally, things seemed to stabilize for Edie. Franz Arthur Westland was born in 1904 and was given the name of both of his grandfathers. Franz, however, quickly became Frank. Four years after that, Edie gave birth to another little girl on December 26th. She was six weeks premature, but she survived. Since she was born one day after the celebration of Christ’s birthday, they named her Christina. So
mewhere around her second birthday, she pointed to herself and proudly announced, “I Tina.” The name stuck, and only her parents ever called her Christina any more.
No more children came after that, but Edie and Mitch were content. They had four wonderful children—four more than they believed they would have—and they were the light of their lives.
Edie’s grandmother, Renate Zimmer, came to live in Monticello just before Mitch and Edie were married. Born in Switzerland and raised in Germany, she and her husband were converted to the Church as young newlyweds and came to America shortly thereafter.
In her patriarchal blessing, Oma Zimmer was told that her posterity would take the gospel to her extended family back in Germany. Determined to facilitate that promise, she spoke mostly German in the home until her death in 1910, despite speaking fluent English.
Once she was gone, the family gradually moved away from speaking German every day. But by that time, Mitch and Edie and the children were fluent German speakers.
Then fate put an interesting spin on that “patriarchal promise.” As Mitch Jr. approached mission age, three years after Oma Zimmer’s passing, everyone in Monticello assumed that he would be called to a German-speaking mission. So when a letter from Box B arrived at the ranch in May of 1913 addressed to Mitchell A. Westland, they immediately gave it to Mitch Jr., assuming the “Junior” had inadvertently been left off. They thought it was a little strange, since he wouldn’t turn twenty for another month, but the age didn’t seem to be a hard and fast rule then. With great elation, Mitch Jr. sent back his mission acceptance letter.
Five days later, Mitch got a call from a confused member of the Missionary Department in Salt Lake City. They had sent a mission call out to a man living in Monticello who was a natural-born American citizen but who spoke nearly flawless German. Though they knew that he was married with several children, the First Presidency decided to extend the call anyway. Now they had received an acceptance letter from an unmarried man.
Fire and Steel, Volume 2 Page 44