Salt Leaven and Light

“A little bird I am,

Shut from the fields of air,

And in my cage I sit and sing

To Him who placed me there,

Well pleased a prisoner to be,

Because, my God, it pleases Thee.”

—Guyon

This poem by Guyon reminds me of a woman I knew. She was always gracious and kind, her faithfulness to God an example to those around her, but I did not understand, until the day of her funeral, the deep impact her life choices had on so many.

After surviving two bouts of rheumatic fever in her youth, she was told she may never be able to have children. When an Elder in her church later gave her a blessing, telling her that she would have children, she determined right then and there to bear as many children as God would send her. Over the years she gave birth to six.

The effects of the rheumatic fever left her feeling weak for the rest of her life, so she retired to her bed most afternoons to rest. It was from her bedside that her children made so many of their memories with their mother: sleeping on the floor next to her bed when they were afraid at night; talking, sometimes for hours, at the end of the day; requesting motherly advice. She had a ministry even in her suffering which, in many cases, exceeded in value her highest usefulness on her most active days.

She was gentle, kind, and patient, even while enduring pain on a daily basis for decades. While she was never healed physically during this earth life, she was strengthened mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. She allowed her physical afflictions to refine her until she became holy.

Her mother’s love was strong. Her children and grandchildren knew she loved them because she listened to them, always responding in love. One grandson said, through his tears, “She was the kindest person I know.”

She was a principled woman who was faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ, taking every opportunity, even at her funeral, to teach truth–that the only way to lasting happiness is to make covenants with God, and remain on the covenant path.

She loved The Book of Mormon, reading daily from its pages since January 1st, 1988, when President Benson issued the invitation to read the book daily. She read The Book of Mormon seventy times during her lifetime. It was common for her children to walk into the room and find their mother reading The Book of Mormon, a book that became, to her, an old friend.

She had beautiful, gifted hands. She made dozens of family history scrapbooks. She was a talented artist, but happily sacrificed a career in art to focus on raising her family.

Her husband and six children honored her at her funeral, each sharing memories and expressing their love.

Had she been born with an innate sense of goodness, making it easier for her, than for you or I, to live a life that was pleasing unto God? No. She, as do the rest of us, had choices to make, and those choices made, one at a time over the many years of her life, are what kept her on the covenant path and led to her eternal reward.

The legacy of faithfulness she left behind may, over time, be forgotten by some, but it will never be forgotten by me. Her death left behind a hole that I, and so many others, will strive to fill by doing the things that she did best: by being kind, gracious, loving, patient, faithful, grateful, and committed to doing the will of God in every area of our lives.

The final stanza of Guyon’s poem perfectly sums up the life of this faithful, holy woman:

“My cage confines me round:

Abroad I cannot fly;

But, though my wing is closely bound,

My heart’s at liberty.

My prison-walls cannot control

The flight, the freedom, of my soul!”

To repeat the final words of her oldest son, spoken at her funeral:

“[Ann], welcome home. I’m glad you’re back with the angels. It’s where you belong.”