“No Greater Reward,” chapter 15 of Saints: The Story of the Church of Jesus Christ in the Latter Days, Volume 3, Boldly, Nobly, and Independent, 1893–1955 (2022)
Chapter 15: “No Greater Reward”
Chapter 15
No Greater Reward
Throughout 1921, Heber J. Grant received letters from David O. McKay and Hugh Cannon about their world travels. After meeting with Saints in Samoa in May, the two men visited Fiji, returned to New Zealand, and visited Australia. They then made stops in Southeast Asia and continued on to India, Egypt, Palestine, Syria, and Turkey.1
While in the war-torn city of Aintab, Turkey, they met some thirty Armenian Latter-day Saints preparing to flee their homes. In the last decade, countless Armenians, including the local branch presidency and other Latter-day Saints, had been killed in communities like Aintab. Saints in Utah had fasted for them, and the First Presidency had sent money for their relief. But the violence had since escalated, making it increasingly dangerous for the Armenian Saints to remain in the country.2
With great difficulty and much prayer, mission president Joseph Booth and local leader Moses Hindoian secured passports for fifty-three people. The Saints then set out for Aleppo, Syria, more than seventy miles to the south, where another branch of the Church met. Their journey took four days, but the refugees pushed on through constant rain and arrived safely at their destination.3
In his final report to the First Presidency, submitted after his return to the United States, Elder McKay praised the Saints around the world. He was enthusiastic about Church schools and recommended supplying them with better teachers, textbooks, and equipment. Expressing concern about the challenges facing mission presidents, he proposed giving only the strongest leaders that assignment. He also recommended that general authorities travel more frequently to support the Saints abroad.4
The prophet agreed with Elder McKay’s conclusions. In the past, Church members had found strength by gathering to Utah. But the days of leaders urging the Saints to move to Zion had passed. Since the end of the world war, in fact, many Saints had left Utah’s small towns, seeking better employment in larger cities across the United States. More and more, Church members everywhere looked to local branches and missions for the support earlier Saints had found in wards and stakes in the American West.5
During a trip to Southern California in early 1922, Heber was impressed by the size of Church branches in and around Los Angeles. “The California Mission is growing by leaps and bounds,” he proclaimed at the April 1922 general conference. Soon the Saints in the area would be ready to form a stake.6
Yet Heber knew Church members needed more than a strong congregation to remain true to the faith. Times were changing, and like others of his generation, he worried about society becoming more secular and permissive.7 Wary of dangerous influences, he encouraged young Saints to participate in the Church’s Mutual Improvement program. The MIA promoted faith in Jesus Christ, Sabbath keeping, church attendance, and spiritual growth as well as thrift and good citizenship. It also encouraged the youth to keep the Word of Wisdom, a principle Heber had taught frequently since he became Church president.8
“If we can make Latter-day Saints of the boys and the girls who attend our Mutual meetings,” he declared, “then these associations will have justified themselves, and we will have the blessings of Almighty God upon our labors.”9
Not all aspects of modern life troubled Heber. On the evening of May 6, 1922, he and his wife, Augusta, participated in the first evening program of KZN, a Church-owned radio station in Salt Lake City. Radio was new technology, and the station house was little more than a rickety shack made from tin and wood. But with a flash of electricity, its operators instantly broadcast messages a thousand miles in every direction.
Holding the large radio transmitter to his mouth, Heber read a passage from the Doctrine and Covenants about the resurrected Savior. He then bore a simple testimony of Joseph Smith. It was the first time a prophet had proclaimed the restored gospel across the airwaves.10
Later that month, in a meeting about the future of the Relief Society Magazine, Susa Gates could feel that more changes were coming. She had edited the magazine since it replaced the Woman’s Exponent in 1914. From the beginning, she wanted it to be “a beacon light of hope, beauty, and charity.” Yet she knew the fate of the magazine was ultimately out of her hands.11
As the months passed, Relief Society general president Clarissa Williams and her secretary, Amy Brown Lyman, were taking a greater role in the magazine’s production, inserting articles about social work and the Relief Society’s collaboration with charitable organizations outside the Church. Susa did not doubt Amy’s sincerity in championing social service. Rather, she feared that Amy was allowing the Church to become too entangled with the world.12
Susa prayed hard to view the situation differently, but her disapproval of the new approach to Relief Society work kept her from seeing the good Amy accomplished. The Red Cross and other charities now referred all cases concerning Latter-day Saints to the Relief Society. Many cases involved needy Saints who had lost contact with the Church after leaving their rural wards to find work in the city. To care for these Saints, the Relief Society often worked hand in hand with public and private medical, educational, and employment agencies.13
Clarissa had also recently consulted with Amy and the general board on an effort to reduce the number of Latter-day Saint women and infants who died during labor and delivery. The Relief Society had long focused on women’s health, and childbirth was a vital concern during this time. The mortality rate for mothers and babies in the United States was high, leading Congress to provide funds to organizations that supported expectant mothers.
Even before these funds became available, the Relief Society general board worked with the First Presidency to establish a maternity home in Salt Lake City and provide medical supplies for expectant mothers in more remote areas. To fund the program, the Relief Society used money it had received from selling grain to the U.S. government during the war.14
Unable to reconcile herself to the Relief Society’s new methods and administrative changes, Susa resigned from the general board and the Relief Society Magazine. “I am leaving my work with a love for my co-laborers,” she told the board, “and trust they will extend the same love to me.”15
Never one to be idle, Susa turned to other pursuits. Earlier that year, she had criticized Edward Anderson, editor of the Improvement Era, for writing Church history that hardly mentioned women. In response, Edward recommended that she compose a history of Latter-day Saint women. Susa had already written a history of the Young Ladies’ MIA, so the project appealed to her. The First Presidency liked the recommendation as well, and Susa soon began writing.16
Apostle and Church historian Joseph Fielding Smith, son of President Joseph F. Smith, invited Susa to work on her history at a table in the Historian’s Office. A short time later, he brought her across the hall to Elder B. H. Roberts’s office. It had a desk, a typewriter, a washstand, two chairs, and shelves full of books and papers.
Since Elder Roberts was in New York serving as president of the Eastern States Mission, Elder Smith said, she could use the office—and B. H. would never need to know.
“I thank thee, Father!” Susa exclaimed in her journal. “Help me comply with my instructions!”17
On November 17, 1922, Armenia Lee completed her tenth year as president of the Alberta Stake YLMIA in Canada. Her administration had been full of challenges as she traveled by horse and buggy through all kinds of weather to visit young women and their leaders. Winters were extremely cold in Alberta, requiring great stamina and courage for those who ventured outdoors. Nevertheless, she would don her warmest clothing, all but smother herself in quilts and wool robes, and head out into the snow and ice.
It was hazardous work, but she loved it.
Originally from Utah, Armenia was nineteen when she married William Lee, a widower with five young children. They had moved to Canada after William found work at a store in Cardston. The move was difficult on Armenia, but she and William started a new life in the small town. They had five more children together, started a mortuary business, and moved into a four-room home. Then, in 1911, a few months shy of their tenth wedding anniversary, William suffered a stroke and died. Armenia was not yet thirty years old when she became a widow with ten children in her care.18
William’s death was sudden and shocking, but Armenia felt the Lord’s Spirit comfort her, helping her to say, “Thy will be done.” The experience was sacred and undeniable. “I know there is a future life, without a doubt,” she testified, “and that family ties stretch into eternity.”19
Armenia was called to lead the stake YLMIA less than two years after William’s death.20 At the time, the YLMIA, which was open to young women age fourteen and over, was undergoing many changes. A few months before Armenia’s call, a stake in Salt Lake City had organized the first of many summer camps for young women in the Church. Like the Young Men’s MIA, the YLMIA had begun seeing recreation as a way to develop character. At first, young women leaders considered joining an outside organization for girls, just as the YMMIA had adopted the Boy Scout program. But Martha Tingey, YLMIA general president, and her board decided to develop their own program instead.21
Martha’s counselor Ruth May Fox had suggested the name for the program: Bee-Hive Girls. The beehive had long been an important symbol of hard work and cooperation for the Saints in Utah. But it wasn’t until board member Elen Wallace read a book called Life of the Bee, which detailed how bees worked together to build hives, that the leaders saw how the symbol applied to their organization.
Soon young women across the Church were organized into “swarms” under the leadership of a “bee keeper.” To advance through the program, from “Builder in the Hive” to “Gatherer of the Honey” to “Keeper of the Bees,” young women earned achievements in religion, home, health, domestic arts, outdoor recreation, business, and public service.22
Armenia and her counselors had begun promoting the Bee-Hive Girls program in the summer of 1915, and soon the wards in Cardston were forming swarms of eight to twelve girls. One year later, Armenia spoke to the Bee-Hive Girls and young men in the stake about the importance of temple work. The temple in Cardston was under construction, and each of them would have a chance to do temple work when it was completed. Such work was a privilege, she told them.23
Now, six years later, the temple was nearly ready to dedicate. Set atop a hill at the center of town, the white granite structure had a pyramid-shaped roof and rows of square columns around it. Like the temple in Hawaii, it had no spires stretching to the sky. Instead, it sat squarely and majestically on its foundation, as solid and immovable as a mountain.24
Elder John Widtsoe gripped his satchel as he stepped off a train at Waterloo Station in London. It was about noon on July 11, 1923, and the station was crowded and unbearably hot.25
He had come to Europe with fellow apostle Reed Smoot. Since the war, Scandinavian nations had been slow to let missionaries return, so President Grant asked Reed to use his position as a United States senator to petition the governments of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway on behalf of the Church. Because John was Norwegian and knew several European languages, he was called to join Reed on the mission.26
As John marched down the railroad platform, he heard a familiar voice cry out, “Here he is!” Then he felt his breath escape him as his twenty-year-old son, Marsel, wrapped him in a solid embrace.27
Marsel, who had been serving in the British Mission for the past year, rode with his father and Senator Smoot to the hotel. Marsel had been a good student and athlete as a young man. And John believed the mission had only improved him. “He is thoroughly in love with his work,” John later wrote to his wife, Leah. “All in all I found him good company—a healthy, thoughtful, intelligent, affectionate, ambitious boy who intends to make the most of his life.”28
After spending a few days in England, John and Reed traveled to Scandinavia with David O. McKay, who had been called as president of the European Mission about a year after returning from his world tour. As usual, misinformation about the Church lay at the heart of government restrictions against it.
In Denmark, their first stop, Reed sat for an interview about the Church with a major newspaper. Their meetings in other nations, which included audiences with the Lutheran archbishop in Sweden and the king of Norway, were also productive. John credited Reed’s reputation for their success. Twenty years after his controversial election, the senator had become an influential lawmaker who enjoyed a close friendship with the president of the United States.29
At the end of their assignment, John reported to the First Presidency that he and Reed had garnered good press for the Church and convinced many European leaders that their policies against missionary work were outdated.30 But the experience had left him pensive. After one tiring meeting, John came upon a bronze statue of Jöns Jacob Berzelius, a renowned Swedish chemist whom he admired.
Sitting down near the statue, John wondered what might have happened if he too had devoted himself entirely to science instead of returning to Utah to help educate the Saints and serve in the Church. “How I would have reveled in the life of a Berzelius,” he wrote Leah later that evening, “for I know that with God’s help I would have succeeded greatly.”
Instead, John had given up his profession and abandoned much of his scientific research to serve as an apostle of Jesus Christ. Yet he did not regret his new path, despite the sadness he felt in burying old dreams.
“I cannot talk here of these things that fly through my soul,” he told Leah. “Only the promise of life hereafter could justify some things.”31
On August 25, 1923, not long after the two apostles returned from their mission to Scandinavia, a special train carrying Heber J. Grant, nine apostles, and hundreds of Saints from Salt Lake City and other parts of the Church arrived in Canada for the dedication of the Cardston Alberta Temple. The visitors quickly overwhelmed the town, which scarcely had room for everyone. Yet the Canadian Saints gladly went out of their way to accommodate their guests.32
Amid the excitement of the day, Armenia Lee had an interview with apostle George F. Richards and her longtime stake president, Edward J. Wood, who had been called as the president of the new temple. Armenia and Edward had been friends for many years. After her husband’s death, she had often gone to him for counsel and advice. They had worked together as stake leaders, and Edward had become like a brother to her.
Once the meeting began, Elder Richards asked Armenia if she would be willing to serve as matron of the new temple. If Armenia accepted the position, she would be required to select and supervise female temple workers, counsel women receiving their ordinances for the first time, and attend to myriad other duties.
Armenia was at once dazed and honored by the call. “I will accept the position in all humility, and do my best,” she said.33
The following day, Anthony Ivins of the First Presidency set Armenia apart inside the temple. Then, at ten o’clock in the morning, she attended the first session of the dedication. Kneeling at an altar in the celestial room, President Grant offered the dedicatory prayer, asking God to sanctify the temple and bless those whose lives it would touch. He also called down a special blessing on the young people of the Church, who were so dear to Armenia’s heart.
“Keep the youth of Thy people, O Father, in the straight and narrow path that leads to Thee,” he prayed. “Give unto them a testimony of the divinity of this work as Thou hast given it unto us, and preserve them in purity and in the truth.”34
The temple opened for ordinance work a short time later. In recent years, President Grant had looked for ways to increase temple participation. In 1922, he had asked a committee of apostles to study how to shorten endowment sessions, which could last up to four and a half hours. Temples now held multiple daily sessions and began offering evening sessions to accommodate Saints who could not attend during the day. Church leaders also ended a practice of having Saints come to the temple to receive a healing baptism or blessing, reasoning that it could interfere with regular ordinance work.35
One unexpected change was a modification of the temple garment. The existing garment pattern, which stretched to the ankles and wrists and had string ties and a collar, was ill-suited for the types of clothing worn in the 1920s. Recognizing that the symbolism of the garment was more important than the style, the First Presidency instructed that a shortened and simplified garment be made available.36
Since Armenia’s duties as matron occupied much of her time, she was released as stake YLMIA president. Her time with the young women was a cherished part of her life, and she missed working with them. Yet she found new joy in greeting the young women she had known from the MIA as they came to the temple to receive their endowments and be sealed for time and eternity to their husbands.37
At the invitation of the editors of the Young Woman’s Journal, Armenia published her feelings on being released after years of service in the YLMIA. “How I love the youth of Zion!” she wrote. “I ask for no greater reward than that which has come to me in seeing our girls grow and develop into womanhood, true to their heritage.”38