Day 7: Music to my ears

In summer 2001, my mom and I were attending a LeBaron family reunion some place far away. During one of the craft/talent show/general store extravaganzas, I came across a beautiful poem written by my great great great grandmother's sister—Emily Hill Woodmansee of "As Sisters in Zion" fame.

Emily's life story is an amazing one. Under threat of disownment, she and her sister, Julia, had joined the church in England and soon set sail to America—never to see her parents again. She eventually joined the Willie Handcart company and—after considerable suffering—settled in the Salt Lake Valley.

Emily passed through a number of additional travails in her life, but always kept a strong sense of optimism and faith—along with a burning testimony of the gospel.

The same week I found her poem, I wrote an accompaniment on the guitar and dedicated it to none other than my own mother.

Love you mom.

My Mother

by Emily Hill Woodmansee (1836–1906)

Say not that I too highly speak

Of her who gave me birth;

I feel, but oh, I cannot tell

Her peerless, priceless worth.

All other loves will never quench

AII Times broad waves ne’er smother

The daily cherished, dearly loved

Remembrance of my Mother.

Tis true that distance often lends

Enchantment to the view,

Tis true that years have intervened

Since her fond care I knew.

Tis true that fancy's fairy form

Around affections cling,

And breathes of darling absent ones

The most enduring things.

But Ah, my memory can defy

Fair fancy, time, and place

To lend one well remembered form

A holier, purer grace.

My Mother's worth, my Mother's love

Ne’er amplified can be;

Where e’er in retrospect I turn

She is all dear to me.

I say not time hath wrought no change

Nay, by it s power alone—

To me my Mother’s faithfulness

Is duly felt and shown.

I say not time s increased her worth,

But it hath made me wise;

For time there was, I did not deem

Her love so rich a prize.

Oh! I have missed her gentle care

When sickness bowed my soul,

And thought that magic of her touch

Would surely make me whole.

And I have loved, and felt that love

Of noble hearts was mine.

Yet Mother, I have never known

Affection deep as thine.

My Mother! Broad lands part us now,

Huge waves between us roll,

But ne’er as now, couldst thou so move

In fountains of my soul.

All other loves will never quench,

All time’s rude waves ne’er smother

The ever bright, the beautiful

Remembrance of my Mother!