Happy Birthday, Joseph!

This is Caroline. She's my fourth great grandmother. She's got spunk and a big heart and did a lot of brave things in her lifetime. There are plenty of stories that have been told about her, and a million more I want to know. But today I just want to share a few things I've learned about the woman she is and the woman I want to be because of her. 

Caroline was raised in Tennesse, in a pretty well to do family. I don't know any stories of her childhood, but I can piece together facts here and there: her family had slaves, and when she got married she had to learn to do a lot of things on her own, so I expect she was pretty pampered as a child. Yet she must have had some hardships even at a young age. She had seven sisters and three brothers - that's a hardship in and of itself. And two of her older sisters were deaf and dumb. She probably grew up signing. And one of those older sisters, Charity, was Caroline's dearest friend. She came with Caroline when she and John (my grandpa) had to leave home and join with the saints. I don't know what her life was like, unable to hear or to speak, but I know that my Grandma Caroline loved her enough that she named her daughter after her. Charity Artemesia Butler is my third great grandmother. 

The story that hits a tender place in my heart has to do with the time Caroline spent in Nauvoo, Illinois, having joined the saints there almost at the beginning. John was a bodyguard to the prophet Joseph, and he has some pretty cool stories of his own, but Caroline had to build and live and learn in the new city of Nauvoo. It was during this time that I imagine she became especially close to Emma Smith, wife of the Prophet Joseph. I don't know the specifics of their relationship, but I know my Grandma loved Emma. I know it because she sacrificed for her, and because she must have known how important Emma's role was in the life of the prophet she loved and followed. 

It was a cold winter in Nauvoo, one of the coldest any of these people must have known. Caroline had been raised in Tennessee, and I imagine this was one of the more bitter winters she'd seen in her life. She must have been cold. Her children were cold. Everyone was cold. I hate the cold. It hurts just to think about such a bitter winter, with no heating and no electric blankets. Or bathtubs. I don't think I'd have been able to make it without the bathtubs. 

Squirrel. 

Caroline and her family were cold. But on one very cold day, Caroline went to visit her friend, Emma Smith. And Emma was crying. Caroline was there with some of the other women of the city. I don't know why they chose to visit that day. Maybe they were gathering to chat. Maybe they were being good visiting teachers and going to see if they could do anything to help, knowing that at this time Joseph was in Liberty Jail and Emma was left to fend for herself and the children on her own. Whatever the reason, my Grandma was there just after Emma had received a letter from Joseph. Joseph, in his pitiful plight and with so much to murmur about, asked only one thing of his beloved wife: could she send a blanket for him? He needed a blanket in the freezing cold of the basement of Liberty Jail. All he had was the clothes on his back. He just needed a little bit of warmth, to pull him through the terror of the trial he was facing. 

Emma was crying. She must have been sobbing with her whole heart. She loved her husband. She ached for his plight. As wife, companion, lover, and friend, she wanted nothing more than to comfort him, to give him some warmth and sustenance for this cold winter. But the terrible truth was that she had nothing to give. A mob had come in the night and taken all but two of her blankets, and she still had children to keep warm in this bitter cold. 

Oh how I ache for Emma when I hear this story! This must have been one of those deep moments of despair. 

Then comes Grandma. Caroline, and others, came to visit Emma. Maybe they had heard that the mob had come again. Maybe they knew Emma had received news from Joseph and wanted to know about that. Maybe they had each received an impression from the Spirit that their sister needed comfort. Whatever the case, Caroline went to visit Emma, and in that meeting, seeing their sister in bitter tears, my grandma did exactly what the Savior would have done: she comforted her. Hugs must have been given. Perhaps one of them pulled off her coat and wrapped it around sister Emma to ward off the cold in the air and in her heart. Maybe they just listened at first. Maybe they prayed together. I don't know the specifics, but I do know that they acted. They told Emma to send - immediately send - Joseph the blankets. Both of them. Send the blankets. Warm your husband. Do all you can to help the prophet of the Lord. And we will warm you. We will comfort you. That is our job. You do yours and we will do ours. 

Caroline hurried home and grabbed all the blankets she could spare. I can't imagine she had much to give. It was a time of scarcity. It was cold. She had children. But she had a sister in need, and she had a prophet to support. So she gave. I don't know what it cost her to give, but I know that she gave all she could. 

I have envisioned this scene many times. It still makes me cry, because it touches that place in my heart that makes these people real to me. Emma is real. Caroline is real. They were mothers. They had needs and trials just as we do. And they needed comfort and help from one another, just as we do. 

This is just a piece of Caroline, a very tiny story. But it binds me to her. My Grandma knew how to serve and how to sacrifice. She had her eyes fixed on what mattered most, and because of that she survived the many cold winters of her life, and didn't just survive, but helped others to survive and thrive as well. 

I want to be more like my Grandma Caroline. I want to know that every woman is my sister, every man my brother. I want to give my blankets in my own cold winters. I want to sacrifice for the things that matter most and give my all to support the prophet of the Lord. 

I have much more to write about Caroline. She's one of my besties. For now, know that I love this woman. I'm trying to be more like her. I'm so grateful for the rock she's given me to build on.