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| Caroline, her son,-Hans Peter Miller, ?, ? |
Family Tree has a fun new feature. Portrait view allows me to see my pedigree chart with pictures of each ancestor. It's like facebook for those who have gone ahead. Thanks to relatives that I don't know, there are more and more pictures and stories of family to love.
Lately I've been getting to know my great-great-grandmother on my Dad's side. She's teaching me some some needed lessons. I love books. Reading on an electronic device has it's benefits, but it's never quite like turning pages, and seeing the end of the story growing closer as the space between the torn off scrap of paper-bookmark and the end of the book grows smaller. So I smiled when I read that she told her children, "Wash your hands. Dirty books are not inviting." I'm also learning that courage isn't just one act of bravery, sometimes it's living a life that shows your faith every day.
Caroline Margaret Larsen was born in Bornhom Denmark where she was raised in a Lutheran home. When she was 11 she began learning about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints from some missionaries. One year later, with the permission of her parents, she was baptized. Her Lutheran Minister was concerned for her and offered to bring Caroline into his home to receive a proper education. Caroline refused and from that time on was treated with enmity by former acquaintances and friends. She wanted to emigrate to America and so began to save for her passage. Little Caroline worked at a country estate for 35.00 a year for 10 years. She milked cows, strained the milk into crocks and churned butter. She washed clothes by rubbing them together with her hands or beating them with a stick. She ironed and scrubbed the stone floors. In the fall she helped prepare the meat by salting it and placing it in brine. The lady of the estate taught her to spin and weave and sew. Because of this Caroline could make clothing from raw material to the finished garment. All these years of hard work prepared her perfectly for the next chapter in her life as a pioneer woman.
I think about my life compared to Caroline's. My first question is, what raw materials would I begin with to make clothing? I've seen cotton, but wouldn't know flax if I saw it at a wedding on Pinterest. Should I learn to weave? Is there a weaving school in Fayetteville? What if the hard times come? Well, I've decided that I have enough clothes in my closet to wear to the end of my life, thanks to Target clearance and Ross, so I may not need to spin and weave. Unfortunately, I don't have a cow, so if there's no grocery store, there's no milk for the Stokers. As far as meat is concerned, there are plenty of deer to go around in the neighborhood. I don't think we can shoot them, though (there's an HOA), but I could lure one into the garage with a garden tomato and then, well, never mind. We might need to grow garbanzo beans for our protein. Anyway...
Caroline sailed to America on the Franklin. Before she left she insisted that her mother keep the gold earrings her mother had given to her in case of financial hardship. That was a fortuitous gesture as her mother and brother were baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints the next year and were able to finance the voyage to America with the earrings.
On Caroline's voyage she met Hans Peter Moller also emigrating to America with his new found faith. They went sight seeing upon arriving in New York City then rode the train together to Omaha, NE where they were married. They then they joined a wagon train heading to Salt Lake.
The story goes on with the Moller/Millers settling in Richfield, UT. Their first home was a dugout with dirt walls and floor, a canvas door and willlow roof covered in soil. It is at this point in the story that I realize, I really need to complain less. What convenience has been spared me? I have running water-hot and cold. Sometimes it takes a while for my hot water to get warm and then I start to whine. Why don't I try bringing water from the river and heating it over an open fire? Sheesh. I take my boneless skinless chicken breasts, throw them in the oven with a potato or two that I bought from Publix, steam any vegetable I want, any season, any time, cut up strawberries from Florida and grapes from Chile and complain about slaving to feed my family.
The point in Caroline's story that will stay with me forever is what I read about her needles. She only owned two needles which she used to clothe her family and keep them warm with quilts. She didn't want to lose them so she stuck them high on a wall. Once, she lost one and spent a considerable amount of time looking for it until it was found. She related to a daughter, " I couldn't just go buy a paper of needles any time I wanted."
Okay, let's talk about excess and thrift. What kind of steward am I? I buy boxes of pencils and pens for the family. Every time one is misplaced (as in rolls under another piece of paper so we can't see it) we grab a new one. At moving time I usually discover a bucket full of writing implements that could help educate a whole grade level. That's just a start. But I want to be like Caroline and appreciate and care for what I have without always wanting more. What I have is enough. I have a feeling we are given conveniences to free our time so we can be working on things meaningful and eternal. Is that what I do with my time, or do I use it to buy more stuff to lose and take care of and be distracted by?
So I have put two needles high up on the wall, because I want to remember, I have been given much and it is enough.
