6. "They are closing my book"
"They are closing my book" -- by Ruth Allen Miles.
Today is a story from my mother's journal -- on pages 246-248 in the book of my ancestor's lives. It is one of my very favorite stories of her life!---
"Two main tragedies happened during my last year at Dixie, both involving my mother, (Levinah Emeline Wilson Allen). Just before Thanksgiving mother (Levinah) was alone and either fell or perhaps fainted and fell between the stove and the wall. (Remember this was a coal stove.) On the stove was a pot of boiling beans which tipped over and dripped over her, burning her badly, particularly around the breast area of her body. Oh, the agony she went through with this!
She was still under treatment and wearing bandages for this when in March she was going to Panguitch with some Temple workers and a newly returned missionary who had come to St. George to visit his sister. They were in a wreck and mother was the sole survivor. With a broken arm -- broken ribs, generally bruised and in shock, she took care, as best she could, of the dead and dying until help came. They were near Cedar City but she insisted on being brought back to St. George where Adelia and I were alone. She knew we were living on a shoe-string to get us through school and that a hospital stay would break that strong.
The Doctor had said if she couldn't get sleep that she wouldn't live. (He had given all the drugs he dared, without it putting her out. They didn't have the medical advancement they do now.) The Temple ordinance workers of which she was one, came and held a prayer circle on the lawn and then 2 came in and administered to her, promising her she'd live to sing "I know That My Redeemer Lives", and that she would yet spend many years in the Temple. She did fulfill this promise. For 17 years after that she went to the Temple, about 15 of which she was an ordinance officiator. (Note by Pal: Mother told me that she had more broken bones than all those who had died put together).
During this ordeal was my final weeks and months of teacher training, final exams, etc. during which time mother's friend whom we lovingly called Aunt Amy Haycock came down daily to sit and take care of her while I was in school. She and mother had lived their young lives in Panguitch, and as we all know, our childhood friends are sometimes closer than relations. Aunt Amy would say "Now you girls, go on to school. I know you're busy -- won't worry about your mother, I'll take care of her." All the neighbors were wonderful to help but Aunt Amy was our "main stay." She helped with my graduation preparations, etc., and sat by Mom the night of my graduation. I told her that night how I loved her and said, "If ever I have a chance, I'll pay you back." Her reply was, "Don't try to help me back -- just help some one else when you can. That's what we are here for -- to help each other."
THE CHANCE CAME !
It was June several years later. After another year of teaching, I was home in Panguitch with Mother when we heard that Aunt Amy had been brought here to stay with her sister, Jane LeFevre. Jane had been my fourth grade, and favorite teacher. We went over to visit and found out they were looking for someone to come help Miss LeFevre take care of Aunt Amy as Jane herself was not to well. My chance came to return a kindness. Aunt Amy had been quick to forgive a fault and radiated happiness wherever she went.
For the next few weeks I was there most of the time, going home to sleep a few hours, and then take over while Jane slept. I don't know to what extent Aunt Amy suffered. She never complained. She knew she was "going" and talked about it with absolutely no fear. If anything, she seemed rather anxious. She talked with deepest love about her children and grandchildren -- naming them one by one, and telling plans she had for each. The last few days she was rather delirious and would talk about all she had to do yet to "get ready to go."
Early one morning Jane came, woke me up and said, "Please come be with me for the next hour." As I entered Aunt Amy's room she was talking. "Everything's done," then she would enumerate household chores -- "dishes done, beds made, sewing done," etc., and then just as the sun came up she said, "Everything's done, and I'm ready to go --". She paused, looked at us and said, "And they are closing my book." She smiled a glorious smile and was "gone". I had had my opportunity!"
I just want to say that I hope each of us have the chance to "get everything done that we were sent here to do." And that we will smile when our book of life is closed.
The picture below is of Levinah and her husband John Butler Allen when they were married. Levinah was left a widow with 8 children, when John died at age 56 of an infection received when a horse's tail switched and cut his eye. It took several months for the infection which resulted to take his life. Today it would be cured in days. AREN'T WE BLESSED TO LIVE NOW ! ! !
Today is a story from my mother's journal -- on pages 246-248 in the book of my ancestor's lives. It is one of my very favorite stories of her life!---
"Two main tragedies happened during my last year at Dixie, both involving my mother, (Levinah Emeline Wilson Allen). Just before Thanksgiving mother (Levinah) was alone and either fell or perhaps fainted and fell between the stove and the wall. (Remember this was a coal stove.) On the stove was a pot of boiling beans which tipped over and dripped over her, burning her badly, particularly around the breast area of her body. Oh, the agony she went through with this!
She was still under treatment and wearing bandages for this when in March she was going to Panguitch with some Temple workers and a newly returned missionary who had come to St. George to visit his sister. They were in a wreck and mother was the sole survivor. With a broken arm -- broken ribs, generally bruised and in shock, she took care, as best she could, of the dead and dying until help came. They were near Cedar City but she insisted on being brought back to St. George where Adelia and I were alone. She knew we were living on a shoe-string to get us through school and that a hospital stay would break that strong.
The Doctor had said if she couldn't get sleep that she wouldn't live. (He had given all the drugs he dared, without it putting her out. They didn't have the medical advancement they do now.) The Temple ordinance workers of which she was one, came and held a prayer circle on the lawn and then 2 came in and administered to her, promising her she'd live to sing "I know That My Redeemer Lives", and that she would yet spend many years in the Temple. She did fulfill this promise. For 17 years after that she went to the Temple, about 15 of which she was an ordinance officiator. (Note by Pal: Mother told me that she had more broken bones than all those who had died put together).
During this ordeal was my final weeks and months of teacher training, final exams, etc. during which time mother's friend whom we lovingly called Aunt Amy Haycock came down daily to sit and take care of her while I was in school. She and mother had lived their young lives in Panguitch, and as we all know, our childhood friends are sometimes closer than relations. Aunt Amy would say "Now you girls, go on to school. I know you're busy -- won't worry about your mother, I'll take care of her." All the neighbors were wonderful to help but Aunt Amy was our "main stay." She helped with my graduation preparations, etc., and sat by Mom the night of my graduation. I told her that night how I loved her and said, "If ever I have a chance, I'll pay you back." Her reply was, "Don't try to help me back -- just help some one else when you can. That's what we are here for -- to help each other."
THE CHANCE CAME !
It was June several years later. After another year of teaching, I was home in Panguitch with Mother when we heard that Aunt Amy had been brought here to stay with her sister, Jane LeFevre. Jane had been my fourth grade, and favorite teacher. We went over to visit and found out they were looking for someone to come help Miss LeFevre take care of Aunt Amy as Jane herself was not to well. My chance came to return a kindness. Aunt Amy had been quick to forgive a fault and radiated happiness wherever she went.
For the next few weeks I was there most of the time, going home to sleep a few hours, and then take over while Jane slept. I don't know to what extent Aunt Amy suffered. She never complained. She knew she was "going" and talked about it with absolutely no fear. If anything, she seemed rather anxious. She talked with deepest love about her children and grandchildren -- naming them one by one, and telling plans she had for each. The last few days she was rather delirious and would talk about all she had to do yet to "get ready to go."
Early one morning Jane came, woke me up and said, "Please come be with me for the next hour." As I entered Aunt Amy's room she was talking. "Everything's done," then she would enumerate household chores -- "dishes done, beds made, sewing done," etc., and then just as the sun came up she said, "Everything's done, and I'm ready to go --". She paused, looked at us and said, "And they are closing my book." She smiled a glorious smile and was "gone". I had had my opportunity!"
I just want to say that I hope each of us have the chance to "get everything done that we were sent here to do." And that we will smile when our book of life is closed.
The picture below is of Levinah and her husband John Butler Allen when they were married. Levinah was left a widow with 8 children, when John died at age 56 of an infection received when a horse's tail switched and cut his eye. It took several months for the infection which resulted to take his life. Today it would be cured in days. AREN'T WE BLESSED TO LIVE NOW ! ! !
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