Working and Sharing

In the year 1912 I became 14 years old and graduated from school. I was given a certificate to that effect. Now I was considered old enough to earn my own living. I was frightened of this new experience. There were still effects of the depression and it was hard to find work. My parents were always happy as each one of us became old enough to contribute towards the house­keeping and our own upkeep.

Mother and I went from place to place looking for employment but it seemed like there was nothing to be had. Finally a friend of mother's said she would speak for me at WD & HO Wills Tobacco factory. Father didn't want me to work there, neither did I, but mother was insistent and I had no choice in the matter. So in January 1913 I started work in the Redcliffe branch of the firm.

At first I worked with girls my own age. I liked these girls and enjoyed working with them. The room we worked in was called the "crushing room". The steamed tobacco leaves were brought to us in huge trolleys. The leaves were knotted together in bundles and it was our job to open them and spread the leaves onto a moving band which took them between two huge rollers and mangled or crushed them, dropping them onto another band which took them in to another room. We passed the time in pleasant chatter sometimes giving book reviews. I enjoyed this because I liked to read and retell stories.

We had to be at work at 8:00 A.M. That meant I had to be up at 6:00 and leave home by 7:00 as we lived clear on the other side of town. Sometimes I walked which took a full hour. Sometimes I took the tram part way. Even now I sometimes dream of running to catch a tram only to see it pass me by.

I used to wonder what would happen if those girls and other people working in my room ever found out that I belonged to the Mormon Church. What would I say or what would I do. I hoped it would be a long time before they did. My hopes, however, were short lived.

One Monday morning I went to work as usual and as I entered the room the buzz of voices suddenly stopped and all eyes were upon me. My heart seemed to jump clear to my throat. I knew they had found out. The girl who was at the head of the next machine called out, "Hey! I saw you coming out of the hall where the Mormons meet yesterday. Are you a Mormon?" Everyone's eyes were upon me as they waited for my reply. I was so tempted to say I was just visiting there, then I thought of the time we were mobbed and of how proud I was to be numbered among those who were persecuted for the gospel's sake, and that had been the theme of our Sunday School lesson yesterday morning, so I quickly and proudly said, "Yes, I am a Mormon". Then I turned towards my machine as the buzz of voices started again. I silently prayed for strength and wisdom and knowledge to answer all the questions that I knew would be fired at me. The girl next to me said, "What is a Mormon?  I always thought they were wicked people but I don't think you would be one if they were".

 

So started my missionary career. I began to study the gospel in real earnest and the Lord opened the eyes of my understanding so that through the years I have been able to answer the many questions put to me and to stand boldly against the ridicule that was heaped upon me at various times. This came gradually. The Lord gave me good friends who stood by me and strengthened me in time of need. I was never tempted again to deny my membership in the Church. It also helped to strengthen me to have to read to my father who had lost the sight of one eye with small pox when he was but nine years old. He liked me to read the Book of Mormon aloud to him.

 

*These photos were more than likely taken after the time that Grandma worked there and may or may not have been the same rooms where she worked. They were probably taken sometime in the 1930s. However, it gives us an idea of the environment in which she worked.