This is the account of Sarah's life written by herself. I am amazed at the influence that one person can have. She had five children and her influence is now touching the lives of her grandchildren and great grandchildren, and great great grandchildren.
I very was touched by the way that she spoke about each one of her children. I really want all her of her posterity to know of her faith and love that she had. She did not have an easy life in many regards and it is so wonderful to read how loving, optimistic, kind-hearted and spiritual she was. I like that are names are similar!! (Dara and Sarah). I also love to read about her trials as well as her triumphs. Thank-you Great Grandma Sarah for writing these words.
MY LIFE SKETCH by SARAH WHITEHEAD RUSSELL
A Book of Remembrance for My Children written in 1957
In starting to write a book or sketch of this kind, my mind goes back many years, to the days of my childhood, to my parents who were converts to the LDS Church, my father in Norway and my mother on Sweden(which makes me think of one of our church teachings that there would be, when searching for the blood of Israel, thro our missionaries, “One of a family and two of a city that would be of the house of Israel”, We find that very true even today.) Right here I will say, I am very thankful for my parents, that they were, “One of a family” when very young and embraced the gospel, came to the promised land, where we their children could be born and raised according to the plan of our Savior and it is my hearts greatest desire that my own children and their children will respect the teachings they have had and make all the efforts that have been made, crowned with success and happiness for all.
My father Christian Hans Monson was born June 16, 1837 at Fredrikstad, Norway. His father, a very stern man by nature, was very opposed to his son having anything to do with Mormon missionaries, but it seems at the age of fourteen, my father became so interested in the doctrine they were teaching-that he would go to hear them against his father’s wishes, and at first without his knowledge.
My father’s father was a Jail Warden. The jail was of stone structure, a small one room, with bars at the windows. It was my father’s job to carry the meals to the prisoners. One day two Mormon Elders were arrested and put in the jail for preaching on the street of Fredrikstad. This of course gave my father many opportunities to hear them teach him the gospel plan, while they ate their food. It was just what he was looking for, being of a very religious nature, he readily believed their teachings and wanted to be baptized right away.
Now it is to be remembered he was only fourteen years of age, so this was a serious matter on the missionaries part. They didn’t want to do anything to anger the jail warden further as they were desirous of being set free to resume their labors in the city. But my father begged for “more” each time until he was getting anxious to become a member. This seemed impossible at the time, at first, but there was a stream of water near the jail and through persistent persuasion and promising to put them back and lock them in, they finally gave in and went to the stream with him one night and baptized him.
When his father found out what had been done sometime later, he beat his son very severely and forbade him to attend and more meetings, but he was not to be ruled over in this manner, so one night on returning home after attending his beloved church, he found all his belongings on the porch and the doors of his home locked. He was no more to call it home or reside with his loved ones.
He got a job as an apprentice in a cabinet making place, with a very kind man who allowed him in his spare time to make different things on his own, which he sold and saved the money to emigrate to Utah. He was one of the few men who were sent out to meet Johnson’s Army, in Utah, when the pioneers were threatened by the Army to be burned out and destroyed (my brother Roy still has the sword he carried to meet them).
He married in polygamy and was a very righteous living man in the church. He died on Sept. 23, 1896 at the young age of 59, leaving a large posterity to carry on his name and work. His patriarchal blessing said his posterity would be scattered wide and far apart and that has been fulfilled to the letter. At this time I do not know what it numbers.
My mother Ella Jensen Monson was born in South Rorum Sweden Oct. 23, 1850- 107 years ago this year. Her life history I will include in a sketch made by my brother Ezra, her oldest child.
In her union with my father, they were blessed with 10 children five boys and five girls, her second child a girl died the day of her birth, and a boy Willard, the fourth to the last child lived eight months when he passed away-and I can very well remember him and when he came to us and when he died. At this time all four girls are living and one boy, Roy. The eldest sister being 80 years young in October, Amanda 74 Rachel 72 and myself I will be 69 in August Roy was 68 in Jan 1957. We were all born in Cash Valley some of us in Richmond Utah and the younger ones in Idaho, just north of the Utah-Idaho line.
