From Climbing Life’s Mountains:  Arizona Pioneer Stories and Faith-Promoting Experiences, collected by Edith Smith Bushman 1941-1972; compiled and published by The A. E. Bushman Family Organization, 1993, pp 84-85. (See "Published Sources" on Table of Contents Page.)

 

When I was twelve years old, my mother became distressingly ill with a serious infection in the bones behind both ears.  For weeks she suffered with the most excruciating pains in her head.  There were no sedatives available and the services of a physician were difficult to obtain.  Each afternoon the pain would grow unbearably intense and poor Mother would pace up and down the room.  Finally, she became so weak, she could not walk back and forth and Father and Snowflake’s dear women would take turns holding her in bed while she cried and moaned with great distress in her ears and head

At last Dr. Brown of Winslow was summoned.  He said that a double mastoid operation would give relief but Mother was in no condition for such an ordeal.  At that time there was no one in the close proximity who had sufficient skill to perform such an operation.  After some deliberation, I heard the doctor solemnly say, “Mr. Smith you are a very sensible man and I may as well be frank with you and tell you there is no hope for your wife.  She cannot live–in 36 hours it will all be over.”

This was on Saturday evening.  Sunday morning, my young brothers were sent to the homes of relatives and special friends with the request that they please join the family in fasting and prayer for Mother.  Monday morning, Mother lay quiet.  There were no cries of anguish coming from her room.  I felt relieved and had gone outside.

Suddenly, I was called to come quickly.  I saw the good neighbors, who were always on hand to help, rushing about carrying hot lids, hot plates, and hot water bottles to Mother’s room.  “She os gone,” said one, as she came from the sick room and I was ushered in to see my mother before she would be no more.  There stood Father and my frightened brothers and sisters.  The death stare was in Mother’s eyes but she was still conscious.  I rushed to her bedside and leaned down to hear what she said, “Goodbye my dear girl, be good to the children.”

In that agonizing moment, I broke out in a cry of deep distress and the other children cried too.  Father was standing very straight and motionless and in a voice of commanding authority he said, “Don’t cry, not one of you.  Kneel down by Mother’s bed and pray.”  He himself stepped to the bedside and gave Mother a blessing.  Then we children were sent from the room

The elders had been called in several times before and in some of the blessings given to Mother she had been promised that she would live to see her children’s children.  On that memorable Monday the hand of death was stayed.  Through faith, Mother’s cold body came back to life and the fingernails that had turned dark became natural again.  It was some time before she left her bed of affliction but the torturing pain subsided while infectious discharges of mucous drained from every body opening.  For weeks she was almost totally deaf while the deadly abscesses erupted and passed out through her ears.

My mother, Lulu Hatch Smith, recovered and bore five more children before her death at the age of 81 years.  She had lived to enjoy her children’s children and to give to the family and the church many years of useful service.

Climbing Life’s Mountains:  Arizona Pioneer Stories and Faith-Promoting Experiences, collected by Edith Smith Bushman 1941-1972; compiled and published by The A. E. Bushman Family Organization, 1993, pp. 86-87. (See "Published Sources" on Table of Contents Page.)

 

President Samuel F. Smith’s Mighty Faith (Story 2)

By Alice S. Hansen (Daughter) (1901-1992)

 

In going through the record books of my parents, I found the following quotation taken from a patriarchal blessing given to Father December 20, 1897.  “Thou shalt have power to heal the sick and if necessary raise the dead, etc.”

Father always possessed a cheerful and hopeful disposition.  His courage and faith in God were responsible for healing of which I was a most thankful witness.

In the year 1919 following the world wide outbreak of deadly influenza, my father began to show signs of failing health.  He was only 46 years old but the strain of sickness in the home and the constant calls to the bedsides of friends eventually brought about a steady decline in Father’s hithertofore robust constitution.  Our family numbered ten and it was with a good deal of consternation that we watched Father grow weaker with each passing day.  Within six months he was totally helpless.  Mother patiently fed him while he lay cold and clammy unable to even shoo a fly that might buzz annoyingly about his sick bed.  During the hot summer days, Aunt Caroline came from Taylor every morning to help Father with her tender nursing skills.  She and Mother tirelessly applied hot packs to bring warmth and circulation to unnatural looking limbs.  It was of no use, there seemed to be no home remedies that would stop the spread of this peculiar type of paralysis.  It must have been fearful indeed for Father to lie there knowing that feeling was leaving his whole body.  However, he never complained and only once did I see his large expressive blue eyes fill with tears.  Then only for a brief moment were the tears in evidence for they were quickly brought under control and the smile of determination and hope lit up his white countenance.

Father was then President of the Snowflake Stake, and the knowledge that devoted earnest prayers of his people were offered daily in his behalf kept away the destroying effects of depression and gloom.  The services of friendly, kind Dr. Brown of Winslow were sought.  The doctor seeing the serious condition of the patient made arrangements for hospitalization in the Santa Fe Hospital in Los Angeles.  The doctor himself accompanied Father and took care of him on the journey by rail to Los Angeles.  Through the sponsorship of Uncle Joseph W. Smith, the people most wholeheartedly subscribed to a fund to meet this expense.

For three weeks the greatest doctors of the West studied Father’s case and gave him needful treatment but their verdict was a dismal, useless future.  No one had ever been known to recover from this type of paralysis.  Undaunted, Father said to his attendants, “You say my heart is still good and that so far, my digestive organs are not affected by the disease?”  To the affirmative answer of the doctors, Father astonished them by saying, “Then it won’t be too long before I shall be getting around on my own power.”

Father was released from the hospital with a reputation as being one of the most unusual and cheerful patients the hospital staff had ever known.  Upon reaching home his faith was resolute and fearless.  Some weeks later Stake Conference was held.  Elder Melvin J. Ballard of the Council of Twelve was in attendance.  He met with the members of the Stake High Council and the Stake Bishops in solemn prayer for Father’s recovery.