As a Missionary

The next four years are hard to describe--the excitement, the sorrow, suffering and hunger. Food was hard to get. We didn't see a potato for several years and once mother and I took turns standing in line for eight hours for one pound of margarine. I often wondered how the old people fared who couldn't stand as long. My brother who had enlisted in the Grenadier Guards before the war was sent with his regiment to Belgium. The Germans were already invading that country. Our town was full of soldiers from almost every country. Some were billeted in private homes. The girls at work used to go out at night looking for dates. They often asked me to go with them. I did go one night but I didn't enjoy it. I felt so cheap I didn't go again.

At church we had many problems. There were so few of us and some of those few became inactive. All the missionaries had been withdrawn of course. Father was President of the Bristol Branch and supervised the outlying branches. I was almost sixteen when the war started. I was made superintendant of the Sunday School and Sunday School teacher of the adult class. My brother, Walter, and my father were the only members left holding the Priesthood. My brother was a Priest and Father was an Elder. We were also set apart by President Richards, before he left, as proselyting missionaries. Sometimes I went tracting with some of the other sisters and sometimes with my father. I was a very timid, shy person and I never did enjoy tracting and it took all the courage I possessed to go up to a door and knock.

One Sunday afternoon Dad invited me to go with him to do some tracting. When we arrived at the assigned area, Dad took one side of the street and I took the other. The first door I knocked on was opened by a big burly man with a loud, booming voice. A large Great Dane dog was standing by his side (I was afraid of dogs too). He said, "Well, what do you want?" I told him who I was and offered him some pamphlets. Then in his booming voice he told me that if I wasn't out of the gate in five seconds he would set the dog on me. I was scared stiff but I thanked him and turned slowly and walked through the gate and closed it. I walked slowly down the street with all the dignity I could muster. My heart was beating like a sledge hammer and there were tears in my eyes. I kept walking until I reached the last house on the street then I summoned up enough courage to knock on that door. The woman who answered my knock had been crying. I talked with her for awhile and found out that a few days previously she had received word that her son had been killed in action. She had gone to her minister for consolation and help but he had told her that because her son had not been a member of any church his soul had gone to Hell. I talked with her and explained some of the principles of the gospel as taught by our church. I believe I was able to comfort her. A few weeks later I called back to see her but she had moved.

I had lots of experiences as a missionary--some good and some very unpleasant--but this I know, that the Lord truly does hear and answer our prayers. My testimony grew and also my self confidence and my knowledge of the Gospel.

News of War

It was the 2nd of August, 1914, when for the first time in our lives we all went for a Holiday together (except Herbert who had joined the regular army). We went by train to Barry to spend a week with Uncle Herbert and Aunt Nell and Aunt Annie. It was Saturday and we travelled by train and arrived in the early evening. We were all so excited. I don't remember what we did on Sunday. There was no Church organization in Barry, but on Monday morning Uncle Herbert took us down to the Barry docks.

He had been able to get permission to show us around and to let us board one of the big ships in the harbor. How surprised we were when we arrived at the docks to find soldiers and security guards everywhere. We weren't allowed to even enter the gates. We were told that England had declared war on Germany. We hurried back to Aunt Annie's. The newsboys were by then running through the streets shouting the news and selling papers like hot cakes. We were advised to hurry home as the trains would be taken over by the government to transport troops and supplies. We hurriedly packed our things and returned home.

A Lesson in Procedure

In [1912] a new family joined the Church. It was a three-generation family consisting of a Mrs. Bryant who was a widow and her three daughters. The oldest daughter was divorced and she had two daughters. 

President George F. Richards

About this time we had another conference and President George F. Richards was to attend and reorganize our little branch. The Branch President, William Caswell, was to be released. His wife, Mary, was a very peculiar person. She waited outside the hall that Sunday morning and as the Bryant family and myself approached she came to meet us. She explained that her husband was to be treated unjustly by being deprived of this office. I've forgotten all she told us but, as we all liked Brother Caswell, we felt sorry for him. She told us to vote against his release. Being ignorant of Church procedure we thought that would be all right. I shall never forget the look on President Richard's face when we raised our hands in opposition to his proposal to release Brother Caswell. I knew I had done something very wrong and there was such an awful spirit there I could have wept. I have never wanted to ever place myself in such a position again. It taught me and the Bryant family a very valuable lesson.

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.

A Malodorous Mystery

On Saturday Aunt Nell's people returned home and I was put on the train to return to Barry. My few belongings were wrapped in some brown paper which had been wrapped around a large gorgonzola cheese--that’s worse than limburger. The day was hot and humid and the train was crowded with people going to the beach at Barry to cool off. The English trains have small coaches holding about twelve people--six on each side facing each other.

A plump gentleman offered to squeeze me in so I sat on the very edge of the seat bracing my feet on the floor to keep from sliding off. I watched the landscape flying by, then I began to realize that I had room enough to sit back and the fat man next to me was almost hanging out of the window for air and the other passengers were crowding away from me towards the opposite window, giving me looks of absolute disgust. By this time we had arrived at the first Barry station. I left the carriage here and thanked the gentleman for making room for me. He didn't answer but looked very relieved.

I made my way to Aunt Annie's house which wasn't far from the station. They were just sitting down to their evening meal when I arrived. So I put my parcel on the machine behind Aunt Annie's chair and seated myself. There were some cousins visiting her from Cardiff by the name of Reakes. The girl, a little younger than I was, was named Doris. I think there were three boys.

You would have to know Aunt Annie to see the humor in this situation. She was very aristocratic in her bearing. She wore her hair piled high atop her head. She always wore high lace collars with bones in around her throat to keep them up. As dinner proceeded she laid down her knife and fork and looking at the nearest boy she said, "Henry, go outside!". He looked at her in astonishment and was about to protest but he saw the look on her face as she said, "immediately!". This happened to each one in turn until all four were outside looking hungrily in the window. By this time I had begun to put two-and-two together and realized it was the cheese paper that was causing all the disturbance.

Uncle Herbert married Aunt Nell and they were very happy. They adopted a baby boy just a few days old. His name was Bernard. His parent's name was Evans but he went by the name of Bernard Yard. The Doris Reakes mentioned above became the Great-Aunt of Janet Reakes of Australia I will write about later on.

A Family Photo

Neal Family Photo, taken about the time they were baptized.

A Valuable Lesson

One summer when I was about twelve  I was permitted to go alone on a visit to Mother's oldest sister who lived in the town of Barry in South Wales. Aunt Annie kept house for her brother, Uncle Herbert. They were both very kind to us children. Mother put me on the train and Aunt Annie met me at Cardiff where I was supposed to change trains. I was a little bit scared of Aunt Annie. She was very fussy and very strict but she tried to be kind. She had never married, neither had Uncle Herbert, but at that time he was courting a young widow. I loved Uncle Herbert very much. The widow's name was Helen Fidoe Stevens. I called her Aunt Nell. One day she asked Aunt Annie if I could go with her for a week's stay at a place called Dinas Powis, about twenty miles from Barry. She was going to act as housekeeper for her cousin who was going to France on his honeymoon. The cousin was a gentleman farmer. That means that he owned a farm and large house, but had servants to run it for him. So I went with Aunt Nell and spent one of the happiest weeks of my life. Uncle Herbert came out by train several times during the week.

Dinas Powis, Wales
 

One day during the week, Aunt Nell sent me on an errand to the village with the caution not to linger in the village, but to come straight home because she said a fog often comes in from the sea and I might not be able to find my way home. I arrived at the village all right and made the purchase I was sent for. But I stopped to play with some young relatives of Aunt Nell's and it was beginning to get late, around 5:00 p.m., when I started back. I had to cross two or three fields, walk down a long lane and cross a bridge over a stream before arriving at the farm. I was crossing the first field when the fog started to roll in. I crossed the stile to the second field but by then the fog was so thick I couldn't see where I was going and I kept going around that field trying to find that second stile. It seemed I walked for hours and I was wet and cold and frightened and didn't know what to do. Finally, I thought of my Father's parting words, "Be sure to pray to your Heavenly Father every day". I had forgotten this advice until now. I had not been in the habit of praying except to sing a little prayer or say the Lord's Prayer. So I knelt down upon the wet grass and asked Heavenly Father to help me find the way home. Just as I arose from my knees I heard a most unearthly noise almost in my ears. It sounded like all the demons in Hell were after me. I ran as though my life depended upon it. I don't remember crossing the stile or running down the lane, but the next thing I knew I was running over the wooden bridge and saw a light coming to look for me.

 

 

A Stile

I learned two valuable lessons that day. One was to always obey instructions and the other that the Lord does hear and answer our prayers. Retracing my steps the next day, I noticed a donkey tethered near the stile. I supposed it was he that made that terrible noise.

This story was adapted for the LDS Friend Magazine by Hester's granddaughter, Alison Lowe Randall. See it here.