Legacy of Faith

In the crazy of the morning to get to church today I felt a sudden need to run and look up my Great Grandma Call. I didn't know why it seemed so important. Quickly I read the little vignette about her by my Grandma Bingham, her oldest daughter, that I've read so many times before about her losing 5 little sons in a 12 year time period. And then I found the family group sheet. After a little age calculation, I suddenly knew why it was so important. When she lost her last little baby she was the same age as me. Instantly the reality of her difficult life hit me hard. By my age she had lost as many children as I have! I cried a bit and was grateful for her strength and what she passed down to me through my grandma and then my mom. I have had some difficult losses in my life, but none compare to hers. I'm thankful she forged through the very difficult days to leave me such a legacy of faith. Here is a picture followed by the little vignette by my grandma.

Solace

Why? Why? Why? Where have we failed? What did we do wrong?

As the sorrowing mother and father stood close together, looking down at the small casket about to be lowered into Mother Earth answers to their questions refused to come.

Had this been the first small son to part with perhaps it would be easier to understand. But their gaze wandered to four small graves, side by side; each one bringing a stab of pain at the remembrance of parting with each precious son.

The gospel meant so much at this time, with its reassurance of a happy reunion! Loved ones and friends were all so thoughtful and kind. It helped remembering the beautiful blessing given by the Stake President; some had felt the presence of angels in the room at the time!

Still, how does one part with one's tiny fourteen month old baby and not feel a yearning to be with him, to hold him in your aching arms? He had been such a comfort during the last six weeks; the hard weeks following the tragic accident and death of their darling three year old son.

Why, oh, why?

The days that followed were lonely, aching days for the brave little mother. Both babies taken from her and the other children in school. Time, which always passed so rapidly, now hung heavy on her hands. Her own dear father had passed away shortly after the death of her baby, and she missed him and the comfort he so lovingly bestowed.

Her husband valiantly carried on with his duties as bishop of the ward. She would not have it otherwise, for she supported and encouraged him to do so. Still it left her with endless, lonely hours and tears. Tears that seemed to never stop.

One night, almost in answer to prayer, she dreamed she was sitting at the bottom of a low rolling hill. As she looked up, she saw five small boys, hand in hand, dressed in gleaming white approaching her. She recognized them as her five departed sons.

Quickly she jumped to her feet, to gather them to her! They stopped and one of them said, "Mama, why do you cry so much? We cannot do our work because you do not sing anymore. Please sing again." Then they faded from her gaze.

Now awakened from sleep, the mother pondered her dream. Possessor of a beautiful soprano voice, she realized she hadn't sung for a long, long time. What was she doing to her dear departed ones? What about her own living children, vitally in need of her love and reassurance?

It wasn't easy. At first she sang through tears, but sing she did. Gradually her voice could be heard sweet and clear, singing praises to her Heavenly Father.