The Work and the Glory

by Gerald N. Lund

  “We’ve got to be different from the world,” someone else said from behind her. There was a murmur of assent that followed that.

  “Sister Eliza,” Joseph said, seeing that Eliza Snow’s hand was up. She stood, turning to face her sisters in the gospel. “I move that the popular institutions of the day should not be our guide. I think that as daughters of Zion, we should set an example to all the world, rather than confining ourselves to the course which others have heretofore pursued.”

  “Second the motion,” Melissa cried.

  The room buzzed with agreement now. “Yes,” several called out. “Let’s have our own organization,” said one. “Let’s not do what everyone else is doing,” agreed another. “Vote!” several cried.

  Eliza turned to Joseph with a questioning look. “I think you should follow parliamentary procedures,” he said. “We have a motion and it has been seconded. All in favor?” Every hand went up.

  Following the vote, Sarah Kimball raised her hand to speak again. “I move that all of those present be accepted as members of this new organization in full fellowship.”

  Mary Ann spoke up now. “We have some who wished to be here today but could not. I would like to amend the motion to include them as well.”

  “Yes,” Sarah agreed instantly. “Who are they?”

  Mary Ann mentioned Jennifer Jo and Sister Pottsworth. Sarah had a neighbor. Another’s sister was ill. When they finished they had seven additional names. Joseph called for a vote. “All in favor of accepting those so named plus those present as members in full fellowship?”

  Again it was unanimous. Willard Richards—who, as one of his assignments as an Apostle, served as scribe and recorder for Joseph—was writing furiously to get it all down.

  Joseph looked around. The room went very still. “This is as it should be, my dear sisters. As I said to Sister Eliza a few days ago, you are not to be organized after the pattern of what the world is doing. I see the purpose of this organization as becoming a Society of Sisters that provokes the brethren to good works in looking to the wants of the poor. I want you to search after objects of charity and administer to their wants. Correct the morals and strengthen the virtues of the community and save the elders the trouble of having to rebuke. I see you giving time to such duties and also to teaching.”

  Lydia leaned over to Rebecca. “A Society of Sisters. I like that.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Yes, very much.”

  “We have something much better for you than what the world has set as the pattern,” Joseph continued. “We are going to organize you after the pattern of the priesthood. As you know, the revelations require that priesthood quorums be organized with a president and two counselors. As you prepare now to go to work, I recommend you organize yourselves in like manner. I would suggest that you elect a president and that she in turn select two among your number to be her counselors to assist her in the duties of her office.”

  He let them consider that for a moment before he asked, “Are there any nominations for president?”

  Elizabeth Ann Whitney’s hand was up instantly.

  “Yes, Sister Whitney.”

  “I nominate Sister Emma Smith to be our president.”

  Emma whirled around in surprise, but Joseph was nodding, obviously deeply pleased. “We have the name of Emma Smith in nomination,” he said, smiling down at his wife. “Are there other nominations?”

  There were none. Everyone was smiling at Emma now, feeling the rightness of that choice.

  “All in favor, then.”

  Every female’s hand in the room went up.

  Joseph motioned for Emma to come up and stand beside him. “The election has been unanimously sustained. Do you accept?”

  She nodded in dazed bewilderment. “I . . . yes, I am highly honored. Of course. I would be deeply honored to serve as your president.”

  He put an arm around her, pulling her softly against him. “Are you prepared to select your counselors, or would you like a few minutes to think about it?”

  To his surprise, she looked around the room and then shook her head. “I don’t need more time. I would like to select Elizabeth Ann Whitney as my first counselor.”

  There was a soft chorus of “aahs” at that and numerous heads bobbed up and down. Elizabeth Ann—or Mother Whitney, as many affectionately called her—was a woman of great faith and spirituality. The mother of seven children, one only recently born, she was not only beloved by all who knew her but greatly respected as well. Blushing deeply, she looked at Emma with tears in her eyes. “I would be honored, Emma. Thank you.”

  “And for the other?” Joseph asked.

  Emma turned. “I select Sarah Cleveland,” she said, smiling at a woman on the second row.

  Mary Ann wanted to clap her hands at that. Sarah Cleveland was probably the oldest person in the room next to Mary Ann. She was also one of the kindest and had one of the purest hearts of anyone Mary Ann knew. Like Sarah Kimball’s husband, Hiram, her husband was a well-to-do merchant in Nauvoo who was not a member of the Church. But, like Hiram, he was also a good friend to the Church. And then Mary Ann remembered something that at least partially explained Emma’s choice. When Emma had fled Missouri with her children, Joseph had still been in Liberty Jail. Crossing the frozen Mississippi with children clinging to her skirts or in her arms, Emma had finally reached Quincy. There it had been the Clevelands who took Emma and her children in and cared for them. She had still been with the Clevelands when Joseph and Hyrum finally escaped and returned to the Saints.

  Joseph was nodding too, and was probably thinking the same thoughts as Mary Ann. He whispered something in Emma’s ear, then kissed her on the cheek. She smiled back at him, then returned to her chair.

  “You have heard the names of Elizabeth Ann Whitney and Sarah Cleveland proposed as counselors. Those in favor?” There was no need to call for any opposing votes. Again it was clearly unanimous.

  “You now have a president and two counselors to lead you,” Joseph said to the group. “I commend Emma for her selection of counselors. I know both of these sisters very well and heartily concur in the choice.” He turned and walked to a small table near the front of the room where copies of the Bible, the Book of Mormon, and the Doctrine and Covenants all sat on one end. He picked up the copy of the Doctrine and Covenants, then turned back to them.

  “I need not tell you how I feel about your choice of my dear Emma to be your president. I may be a little prejudiced in this matter”—he stopped as the laughter rippled across the room— “but I think you will agree with me that she is a woman who has a unique standing in the Church. She has been at my side from the very beginning of the Restoration. She has endured loss and privation, ridicule and persecution. She has never wavered—not when I have been gone from her for long periods, not when we have had to have bodyguards sleep at the foot of our bed, not when we have been driven from state to state.”

  His voice caught now and he had to stop for a moment. “This woman has watched me be torn from her very arms, and from those of my children, and dragged off to what seemed like certain execution and she did not falter. She carried the precious manuscripts under her skirts as she and my children fled from the lawless rabble that ruled western Missouri. She has not stumbled. She has not fallen. Even now she stands by my side.”

  The sound of sniffing could be heard now, and Emma’s eyes were moist as Joseph gave his tribute. He opened the book in his hands. “Just a few months after the Church was organized, I was privileged to receive a revelation from the Lord which was directed to Emma. I would like to read you something from that revelation now, for it is most appropriate in light of what has just transpired.”

  Looking down, he turned a few pages, found his place, then raised the book higher, “‘Hearken unto the voice of the Lord your God, while I speak unto you, Emma Smith, my daugh-

  ter. . . . Behold thy sins are forgiven thee’”—his voice rose sharply to emphasize the next phrase—“‘and thou ar
t an elect lady, whom I have called.’”

  He lowered the book. “Shortly after that revelation was given, I laid my hands on Emma’s head and set her apart to become an elect lady, to expound the scriptures to all, and to teach the female part of our community. On this day, you have raised your hands and elected Emma to preside over you.”

  He paused for a moment to let the import of what he had just said sink in. “This day, a prophecy, which was given almost twelve years ago now, is fulfilled.”

  Now his eyes came back to his wife, and Joseph spoke with great tenderness. “As we have said, this organization will have as its primary purpose the doing of good to those in need. Is there any better than Emma Smith to lead you in that endeavor? If you were to walk a block to the east of here, to the little house we all know as the Homestead—our home—you would find we have several others living with us at the moment. Many of you remember those terrible days in the summer of 1839, when every room in our house, when practically every square inch of grass around our house, was covered with the sick and the dying. And who ministered to them? Emma Smith.

  “A few years ago, Emma once said something like the following to me: ‘Joseph, I desire to be a blessing to all who may in any wise need anything at my hands.’” Now he had to stop and look down. He was blinking rapidly. Finally he reached up and brushed at the corners of his eyes with the back of his finger. “If there was ever a woman who deserved to preside over the organization we are putting into place this day, it is my beloved wife, Emma Smith.”

  Emma was weeping openly now, and so were most of the women in the room. Mary Ann could barely see Emma through her own tears. Beside her, Lydia and Bathsheba Smith were holding one another’s hands. Rebecca was wiping at her eyes with her handkerchief. Melissa just let the tears stream down her cheeks.

  Joseph looked up again at Emma, started to speak once more, but couldn’t. He finally motioned for John Taylor to come up and join him. As he did so, the Prophet took a breath, then another, trying to regain his composure. “As I said,” he finally managed, “some years ago I laid hands on Emma and set her apart to this calling. I’d like Brother Taylor to now give Emma a blessing and then ordain Sisters Whitney and Cleveland to their callings.”

  The blessings given to Emma and her two counselors were simple but filled with beautiful promises and gentle admonitions about fulfilling their duty. When he was finished and Sarah Cleveland had returned to her seat, the Apostle looked around. “Sisters, we have referred to what has just happened as an ordination, and so it is in a way. But this should not be confused with priesthood ordinations where priesthood power is given. Rather this is a setting apart to an office and calling by the hands of the priesthood. The blessings are real and will be ratified as these sisters fulfill their callings faithfully.” And with that, he too sat down.

  Three additional officers were selected—Elvira Cowles was chosen to be treasurer, Eliza Snow as secretary, and Phebe Wheeler as assistant secretary. Mary Ann didn’t know the other two that well, but she couldn’t help but nod at the choice of Eliza. She was an accomplished writer and a gifted poet. Many of her poems had been published throughout Illinois, and she was now referred to as “Zion’s poetess.” It was also interesting to Mary Ann that Eliza and Sister Cowles were not married and that Sister Wheeler was a widow. Good! she thought. This would tell the sisters that this was an organization of sisters, not just of wives.

  Joseph next arose and spent some time teaching the sisters the rules of proper parliamentary procedures. This was the way to allow for discussion and even dissent in an orderly and amiable fashion, he told them. This would be important as they met and worked out how their society was to operate. Then Joseph gave them an opportunity to practice the principles he had just taught them. “Emma,” he said, “I think it is appropriate that the first item of business for your new organization is to decide upon a name. As its president, the meeting is now yours.”

  Emma stood and came to the front. She stood quietly for a moment, just looking around at the sisters before her. Lydia watched her closely. There was still some evidence of what she had been through in the past six months, but this was more like the old Emma. Her face, for so long pale and drawn, was filled with color again. Her jet black hair hung in shining ringlets. The dark brown eyes were clear and wide, though they were still glistening from the emotions of the moment. Lydia felt a great surge of affection for this beautiful woman who stood before them now. Aside from being a wonderful friend, she was all that the “first lady” of the Church should be—kind, generous, giving, patient, gracious, articulate. It was little wonder that every hand had come up so swiftly to sustain her election as president.

  As Emma began to speak, her voice trembled a little and she clasped her hands together to keep them steady as well. “My heart is full,” she finally began. “This is such an honor to be so elected by you wonderful sisters.” She glanced at Joseph and her mouth softened into a smile. “And to know that some twelve years ago, the Lord foresaw this day. I am truly humbled.”

  She took a deep breath, then became more businesslike. “Now, as to a name for our society.”

  Rebecca leaned over. “I like Society of Sisters,” she whispered to Lydia.

  Lydia nodded; then they both turned back to listen.

  “I will express my feelings,” said Emma, “and then we will hear suggestions from the floor.” She took another breath, collecting her thoughts. “I feel very strongly that we should not be called after other societies of the world, especially when some of them have such a tarnished reputation. Those are my feelings, but I wish now to hear yours.”

  Sarah Cleveland’s hand came up immediately.

  “Sister Cleveland.”

  “What we are hoping to do is to provide relief for the poor and those in need. Therefore I would like to suggest that we call ourselves ‘The Nauvoo Female Relief Society.’”

  That brought a ripple of response from the sisters. John Taylor raised his hand. Emma nodded in his direction. “I agree that helping others will be the aim of this society, but it seems to me that benevolent is a better word than relief. Benevolence suggests charity and caring. I know that other societies have used that name, but it is still a noble word.”

  “But it is too much used by the rest of the world,” Lydia spoke up. Then, a little embarrassed by her spontaneity, she raised her hand. Emma smiled and nodded for her to continue. “It is a good word, but if we make it part of our name, it will suggest to everyone that we are just another benevolent society. And I don’t think we are.”

  Several around the room nodded at that, and Lydia was pleased to see that after a moment, John Taylor nodded too.

  Now Eliza Snow’s hand was up.

  “Sister Eliza.”

  She stood. Now that she was secretary, she too was making a record of the proceedings and she had the papers and pen clutched in one hand. “I agree that benevolent is a tainted word and that we should not use it. On the other hand, relief seems too limited in my mind. Relief seems to suggest that we rise to meet the needs of people on some extraordinary occasions only. I think what we are after is meeting the more common occurrences of needs.”

  “I agree with that,” Emma said quickly. “I agree that we do not want people to think we are simply responding to great crises around us. But then, we are going to do something extraordinary too. When a boat is stuck on the rapids, with a multitude of Mormons on board, we shall consider that a loud call for relief. We expect extraordinary occasions and pressing calls for help. But at the same time, we must not ignore the commonplace needs. We must be observant and aware of what is right around us, perhaps even next door. Take, for example, Philindia Myrick, who is with us here today. She lives right among us, and yet she is in need. Her husband was martyred at Haun’s Mill. Philindia is an industrious woman; she performs her work well, doing excellent needlework. But she has three children to support and care for. Think what a relief it would be to her if we in this societ
y not only used her services when possible but also recommended to others the patronage of her needlework.”

  She stopped and smiled warmly at Philindia Myrick. Sister Myrick looked a little uncomfortable, but it was clear that she also appreciated Emma’s concern and her suggestions.

  Emma looked around at the others. Her words had had an effect, and she saw no more hands. “Unless there is further discussion, I then move that we call our organization, as recommended by Sister Cleveland, ‘The Nauvoo Female Relief Society.’”

  Again Eliza Snow’s hand shot up. There was a quick, embarrassed smile. “I guess this is just the poet in me, but if we changed that slightly to be ‘The Female Relief Society of Nauvoo,’ it has a little better ring to it.”

  Emma smiled. “I agree. The motion is amended to read, ‘The Female Relief Society of Nauvoo.’ All in favor?”

  She looked around, her face infused with pleasure. “Let it be shown that the motion has been passed unanimously.”

  Joseph stood and came to her. He slipped an arm around her waist. “This is wonderful, sisters. I now declare this society organized with president and counselors according to proper parliamentary procedures.” He reached inside his coat pocket, giving his wife a huge grin. “From henceforth, all I have to give to the poor I shall give to this society so that it can be administered properly.”

  He extracted a five-dollar gold piece from a small purse. “Let me be the first to contribute to this wonderful cause.” He handed the money to Emma and then gave her a solid kiss. That brought the women to their feet, and the room filled with the sound of enthusiastic applause.

  Chapter Notes

  The natural progression from various informal women’s service movements to the sewing society for workmen’s temple clothes proposed by Sarah Kimball led to the drafting of a constitution and bylaws as mentioned here. The intent was to organize a “ladies’ society.” Joseph’s reaction to that draft led to the meeting in the Red Brick Store on 17 March 1842. Excellent minutes were kept of that meeting and we have extensive detail of what transpired. Wherever possible, the words found here are those actually spoken by those present or follow closely the summary of what was said. (See Women of Covenant, pp. 26–31, which offers a detailed and excellent treatment on the founding of the Relief Society.) In the original meeting there were twenty women listed as attending. Later, the names of Nancy Rigdon and Athalia Rigdon Robinson, daughters of Sidney Rigdon, were crossed out, probably because of their dissent and the fact that they eventually left Nauvoo. For this reason, later sources often say there were only eighteen present on the day of the organization. (See Women of Covenant, p. 444 n. 15.)