626. Tragedies that happened to my Grandmother, and about my dear mother Ruth -- fascinating stories!
One of my favorite stories of my dear mother's life. It is such an inspiration in many ways. I hope you enjoy it again, if you already have read it. I noticed this was read 2 times yesterday, and often when an old entry was read by someone, I go back and read it again myself. I felt this was worth repeating! I posted many family history stories early on in this blog. I may repeat some that you haven't read lately.
This was originally # 140, and posted on April 30, 2014, just over 2 years ago.
This touching story is told by my mother Ruth in her journal: (It brought tears to my eyes just reading it again -- )
Two main tragedies happened during my last year at Dixie, both involving my mother. Just before Thanksgiving we were expecting George to come home. Mother was alone and either fell or perhaps fainted and fell between the stove and the wall. 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!
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. I guess that all my life I had heard of my mother's dear friend, Amy LeFevre Haycock, but it was not until March 1928, when the tragedy of mother's wreck struck our family, that I fully realize the deepness of their friendship (if indeed I fully realized it then or ever.)
At that time we were living in St. George about 2 blocks from the Haycocks, and I was in my last year at Dixie. I was caught up in the whirlwind of teacher training, opera, concerts, dances, etc., you name it. I recall Aunt Amy Haycock and Mother sometimes visiting together when I came home for a few brief moments and a "snack" now and then, but my own friends and social life preoccupied my time and thoughts.
Mother was still under treatment and wearing bandages for her burns when in March she was going to Panguitch with some Temple workers. She was going for a week or two leaving Adelia and me to shift for ourselves. She was riding with a couple from Tropic, Temple workers, and a young missionary who had just returned from the mission field one week before, and had come to St. George to visit with his sister who lived there. It was only a few hours until we received word there had been 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.The couple were killed instantly, and Mother, badly injured with many broken bones, but still conscious, was left with the dying missionary, who died just as help arrived. They were close to Cedar City and they wanted to take Mother to the hospital, but she insisted on going back to St. George and "home." She knew Adelia and I were alone and we were living on a shoe-string to get us through school and a hospital stay would break that string.
Home she came. In those days all doctors made "house calls." Dr. Donald McGregor came to the home -- set her badly broken arm, took care of her otherwise and gave her strong sleeping pills to put her to sleep, for she was in a serious stage of shock. She however did not go to sleep.The next morning early there at the door was Aunt Amy (no blood relation but a true aunt to us from then on.) She and mother had lived their young lives in and close to Panguitch and as we all know, our childhood friends are sometimes closer than relations, and we all are anxious to help "anyone from home." That day Aunt Amy stayed with us all day and was there when the Temple Ordinance workers came, held a quiet prayer circle outside and then 2 brothers came in and blessed her. They promised her that her life had been preserved for a purpose and that she would yet live to sing "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" and that she would yet spend many years in the Temple. Sleep came. 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.)
For the next six weeks or so Aunt Amy was almost constantly at our house. Sometimes it was a meal she brought, a loaf of bread, an article to read to mother, or whatever. She seldom came empty handed. She'd often gather up washing, take it home to do and bring it back folded and ironed. Aunt Amy would come early to help me get Mother turned over in bed, properly care for, etc., and then would say -- "Now you girls, go on to school, I know you're busy -- don't worry about your mother. I'll take care of her. Come home when you can and I'll run up to feed 'Bill'".
After a week or two the body swelling had gone enough that the Doctor found all mother's ribs on one side were broken. After he got her bound up, it was easier to move her, and in a few weeks she was able to sit up in a chair. 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." Dear Aunt Amy!
I told the rest of this story briefly in Blog # 6, but I'm repeating it here. It is such a beautiful story!
THE CHANCE CAME !
It was June several years later. (Actually it was June 1933, the summer before Ruth and Pratt were married on Christmas Day, 1933). 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 be smiling when our book of life is closing.
I'm including "Aunt Amy's" death certificate, because I looked it up, and found that she was just 4 months younger than my grandmother, Levinah, who had the accidents. Levinah was born April 14, 1870, and as you will note, Amy was born August 28, 1870. Amy was almost 63 years old -- not that old! It was only 5 years after she had helped Levinah.
This was originally # 140, and posted on April 30, 2014, just over 2 years ago.
This touching story is told by my mother Ruth in her journal: (It brought tears to my eyes just reading it again -- )
My mother Ruth Allen Miles, about 1974.
Two main tragedies happened during my last year at Dixie, both involving my mother. Just before Thanksgiving we were expecting George to come home. Mother was alone and either fell or perhaps fainted and fell between the stove and the wall. 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!
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. I guess that all my life I had heard of my mother's dear friend, Amy LeFevre Haycock, but it was not until March 1928, when the tragedy of mother's wreck struck our family, that I fully realize the deepness of their friendship (if indeed I fully realized it then or ever.)
Mother was still under treatment and wearing bandages for her burns when in March she was going to Panguitch with some Temple workers. She was going for a week or two leaving Adelia and me to shift for ourselves. She was riding with a couple from Tropic, Temple workers, and a young missionary who had just returned from the mission field one week before, and had come to St. George to visit with his sister who lived there. It was only a few hours until we received word there had been 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.The couple were killed instantly, and Mother, badly injured with many broken bones, but still conscious, was left with the dying missionary, who died just as help arrived. They were close to Cedar City and they wanted to take Mother to the hospital, but she insisted on going back to St. George and "home." She knew Adelia and I were alone and we were living on a shoe-string to get us through school and a hospital stay would break that string.
Home she came. In those days all doctors made "house calls." Dr. Donald McGregor came to the home -- set her badly broken arm, took care of her otherwise and gave her strong sleeping pills to put her to sleep, for she was in a serious stage of shock. She however did not go to sleep.The next morning early there at the door was Aunt Amy (no blood relation but a true aunt to us from then on.) She and mother had lived their young lives in and close to Panguitch and as we all know, our childhood friends are sometimes closer than relations, and we all are anxious to help "anyone from home." That day Aunt Amy stayed with us all day and was there when the Temple Ordinance workers came, held a quiet prayer circle outside and then 2 brothers came in and blessed her. They promised her that her life had been preserved for a purpose and that she would yet live to sing "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" and that she would yet spend many years in the Temple. Sleep came. 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.)
For the next six weeks or so Aunt Amy was almost constantly at our house. Sometimes it was a meal she brought, a loaf of bread, an article to read to mother, or whatever. She seldom came empty handed. She'd often gather up washing, take it home to do and bring it back folded and ironed. Aunt Amy would come early to help me get Mother turned over in bed, properly care for, etc., and then would say -- "Now you girls, go on to school, I know you're busy -- don't worry about your mother. I'll take care of her. Come home when you can and I'll run up to feed 'Bill'".
After a week or two the body swelling had gone enough that the Doctor found all mother's ribs on one side were broken. After he got her bound up, it was easier to move her, and in a few weeks she was able to sit up in a chair. 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." Dear Aunt Amy!
I told the rest of this story briefly in Blog # 6, but I'm repeating it here. It is such a beautiful story!
THE CHANCE CAME !
It was June several years later. (Actually it was June 1933, the summer before Ruth and Pratt were married on Christmas Day, 1933). 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 be smiling when our book of life is closing.
I'm including "Aunt Amy's" death certificate, because I looked it up, and found that she was just 4 months younger than my grandmother, Levinah, who had the accidents. Levinah was born April 14, 1870, and as you will note, Amy was born August 28, 1870. Amy was almost 63 years old -- not that old! It was only 5 years after she had helped Levinah.
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