Contributed By: kerrycbutler · 16 July 2014 ·
HELEN CHRISTENSEN
7 June 1916 – 12 July 1956
Written by Helen Christensen Tolman
In a small farmhouse located on the banks of Bear Creek in Glencoe, Idaho, I was born on June 7th 1916 to Hyrum Wilford Christensen and Lola Maren Jensen Christensen. I was the third child to come to this happy home. There were six children in all; beginning with the oldest is Ivy, Laura, myself, Erma, Ray (the only boy) and Ruth. I don’t remember my life until I was about four years old. We had moved into another house located on Station Creek. I remember when my brother was born there. I remember the year when the flu was so bad. There were so many people died with it. Our whole family had it. My father and mother being so bad they nearly lost their lives. Mother says it was only the faith of her father that saved them. No one would come and take care of them, except him and a nurse. He administered and prayed for them, and their lives were spared. What a blessing it was to us children. I remember the nurse giving we children an orange if we would walk from one end of the bed to the other without falling. We were all very weak from the flu, but we tried very hard because an orange was something very special in those days.
I remember going to Primary and Sunday School. One Sunday, I was asked to sing in Sacrament Meeting. The song I sang was “Jesus Once was a Little Child.” I did quite well, I presume, because soon after I was asked to sing in Primary Conference. This time I sang, “Suppose.” The song ended in the word “face.” My older sister at home would sing “face-face-face.” So when I finished my song I ended it the same way. I looked at my sisters who were trying to get me to quit, and my mother who was accompanying me on the organ was red with embarrassment. But an elderly lady in the audience said that it was fine and rewarded me with a candy bar. She later became a very good friend of mine because after this we moved into a house close by hers. It was owned by her. Her name was Mrs. Walgreen. My sister and I often went to see her. She would always give us a treat, and many times came to our home and brought good things for us to eat. We lived here just a short time, when the family moved to Grace, Idaho. The home we moved into was large and I thought beautiful. There were lots of trees, fruit trees and plenty of green grass to play on. It was here that I started to school. We lived about three miles from the school and our only transportation was horseback. My two older sisters and I rode a little buckskin pony named Flax. She was so faithful and gentle. She played an important part in my life for many years.
I was six years old now, and old enough to help with the work around the farm. My main job, and tedious I might add, was to herd cows and sheep. My sister Erma and I spent every day except Sunday and school days herding the cows, and this is where our faithful pony played such an important part in our lives. One summer when the green apples were big and juicy as all children think they are, Mama told us not to eat them for fear they would make us sick. The orchard was close to the field where we herding cows. It was so tempting to go and pick us just a few, that we gave in to our appetites and snuck over to the orchard. Erma crawled up in to the tree, and I caught them as she threw them down and laid them behind me. When we had picked all we thought we needed, I turned around to gather them up in my apron, but they were all gone. Our pony had eaten each one as I had laid them down. Fearing Mama would see us in the orchard, and give us a spanking, we got on our pony and went back to the cows. We often talked about how our horse helped us obey our mother.
My eighth birthday had finally come, and I was old enough to be baptized. Papa hitched the horses to the buggy, and with Mama and my girlfriend and her mother we drove to the place where they were going to baptize that day. It was in Bench Canal that runs through Grace. There I was baptized by Harley C. Olson on July 5, 1924. There were several others baptized that day also, including my girlfriend Ivara Nelson. I was confirmed the following day by Jesse P. Jensen. At this age my sister Erma and I spent our spare time at playing house. Each day we would move our playhouse to a new place. One day it would be under one tree and then under another. Next day back of the house or beside the barn. Once we built it in a large barrel and put in shelves and all the trimmings. One day Mama remarked, “Why, next thing I know you’ll be building it in the horse manger in the barn.” No sooner had she turned her back than we began packing to move into the horse manger. All went well until my father brought the horses in at noon to feed them. Our next move was into a small shed. We had it fixed up nice and neat and was sitting down admiring our work, when all of a sudden I heard the dog barking and a pig squealing. I looked out the door to see what was going on, and that very same time, in thru the door came the pig with the dog holding onto its ear. Around and around they went in our playhouse. Erma managed to get out the door, but I half rode the pig and half hung from a shelf that was fastened on the wall. After our intruders had turned our play house into a shambles they darted out through the door and into the barn.
Another pastime we always enjoyed was teasing our buck sheep – if we were sure we could get away. One day we were standing on the panel that held them in the barn. We were poking our fingers at him. He would back up and dart at us, and we would jump back away from the panel. One time Erma’s foot slipped and she fell over the panel and down in front of him. We never moved so fast n our lives to get her out before he bunted her. That was a good lesson to us and we never bothered him anymore.
My next birthday, I would be nine years old. During the winter months before it, my parents were talking about moving to a place called Wendell, Idaho. The people who wrote to them about it told them fruit grew on the sagebrush. They said how nice and sunny it was, and how beautiful the birds sang. When my sisters and I would go to bed, we wold talk about what a wonderful place that must be. So when the folks decided to move for sure, they thought March was the best time to go. In order for my sister and I to get all the fruit we could eat off the sagebrush, we packed a box full of strawberry cartons so we would have something to put it in. I remember when we left Grace there was lots of snow on the ground and it was very cold. We rode in my Uncle Charley’s Model T Ford. Another man by the name of Bud Ormod took his family and car and went with us. My father took all the furniture and livestock of the families on the train and we were to meet him there. It was late at night when we got to Wendell. We went to a hotel and all the rest of the children got out of the car and went with Mama into the hotel. When Mama counted noses, one was gone and that was me. Meanwhile the car was put in the garage and the garage man was just locking up to go home when some of the family came back for me. I was curled up in the corner of the seat sound asleep. I hate to think what might have happened if I had awakened and found myself alone.
The next morning was a special one. We were to go and see our new place and more important find fruit on the sagebrush. Our home was nice, the sun was shining and the birds were singing, but I didn’t see one sagebrush that had fruit on it. All the other nice things made up for it, so I was happy anyway.
We only had about three months of school left and it was hard for us to get there. We had to walk three miles to catch the bus and three miles home again. When we started to school, we found out the people didn’t like the Mormons very well. When we would get on the bus the children would laugh at us and call us D.M., meaning damn Mormons. They were continually picking on us and being mean to us. The next year there were enough children in our community to start up a small school in the little red school house. Some of the happiest days of my life were spent there. I was in the fourth grade now; I should have been in the fifth, but the teacher I had for three months didn’t pass me. I was so afraid of her and coming into a new school made it hard for me to adjust. When school started in the little red school house, we had a wonderful teacher named Golda Rider. We all loved her very much and with her help, I made two grades that year and so I was up where should of been.
A year or two went by and more people moved into the neighborhood. There was quite a large community now and it was necessary to build a new school house. The past year we only had half-day school. The older boys and girls would go in the morning and the younger ones in the afternoon. After the new school was built they named it McBurney School after a man who had lived there and started the small school. The older boys and girls went to the new school and the younger ones went to the old school house.
There were enough LDS children in the community to start a Primary, so the mothers along with the bishopric of the Wendell Ward organized a branch and called it the West Side Branch. Sister Lillis Nelson was the first President and soon after it was organized, I was asked to be the chorister. It was my first church calling. I was only twelve years old, but I enjoyed every minute of it.
My Aunt Allien was my school teacher during the 7th and 8th grades. She boarded most of the time at our house. She was one of the finest teachers I had. She showed no favoritism because she was my aunt, and all the children loved her for it. It was quite an important event to graduate from the eighth grade. Now I would have to go to town to school and mingle with so many more students. I remember when I started, I was thrilled yet so frightened. Everyone seemed different than we children from the little country school. It didn’t take us long until we were n the swing of things. One day Mr. Downey, the Superintendent of the school and chorus leader, asked me to be one of the girl’s sextet. I was so thrilled I could hardly answer. We sang a lot of different places that year. This also helped my chorister work in the Primary, to get this extra training. I also enjoyed singing in the sextet my junior and senior year.
The school bus didn’t come out our way my first year in high school, so the parents of the boys and girls who were going to high school decided each one of us would take a car for a week and take all of them to school. I had never driven a car, and driver’s licenses were unknown of. So with one lesson which consisted of driving the car from town to our house, I was ready to take my turn – so I thought. I left in the morning with my confidence at its peak, until I tried to turn around in the yard of the first one I was supposed to pick up. I forgot to push up my gasoline lever on the old Model T, and bang, I knocked the neighbor’s gate post down. I felt quite bad about it and I vowed I wouldn’t forget to push it up the next place. When I turned around in the next yard, I forgot again in my excitement and ran over a turkey. I was almost in tears, but drove on to the next place, and a dog run out in my road and I ran over it. I let go of the steering wheel to put my hands over my face to hide the tears and the car went zig-zag down the road, till one of the boys took over and drove it to school. The next day I had the courage to take it again but all went well after that. The school bus came out our way the next year so we didn’t have to drive the cars any more.
I was still chorister of the Primary, but I was asked to be the Secretary of the Genealogy also, and I accepted. Our Genealogy Committee decided to have an excursion to the Logan Temple to do baptizing for the dead. We decided to have dances to raise the money. So we asked my mother who played the piano, my father who played the banjo, and my Uncle Charley who was very good on the violin, to play for the dances. We held them at the new school house and charged twenty-five cents for the men. They were very successful. The crowds were so big they could hardly dance. We held them until we had raised $300, enough for the trip. We hired a bus to take us down. There were about thirty young folks who went. Being the Secretary I took care of the money. I had it in a large coffee can. I’ll never forget how they teased me about that. That was the first time I had seen the Temple. I thought it was so majestic and beautiful. The temple grounds were covered with lovely flowers. We all stayed at a place just across the road form the temple. She was a relative of Sister Prescott who went along to supervise us. I was baptized for ten people that time. It was an experience I’ll never forget.
I was fifteen years old now, and it was at this age I saw for myself the power of the priesthood. I believed people could be made well because my parents had told me so. My father had told of being made well. one day I stayed home from school just because I didn’t want to go. About noon my father came in from the field terribly sick. He sent me through the field to bet Brother Bleak who was working out in his field. I had to wade through icy water on the canal to get over to him. He came as fast as he could and with the help of my Uncle Charley, they administered to him. I didn’t go in the house because I couldn’t bear to see my father suffer, but I listened to the prayer through the window. Soon I saw my uncle and my mother lift him into the car and take him to the doctor. I waited and waited for them to come back. All the time I was thinking, “I wonder if that prayer will be answered or will my father still be sick or maybe die.” It wasn’t long till I saw the car coming. I was almost afraid to look for fear my father might not be there. But to my surprise and joy he got out of the car and walked into the house as if nothing had happened. Mama told me he was better before they even got him to the doctor. Then I knew for a surety that our Father in Heaven hears and answers our prayers. Mine was surely answered that day and has been many times since then.
My senior year in school was an exciting one. Looking forward to graduation and all the activities that take place during that year. My biggest thrill was then I graduated. I’ll never forget when they handed me my high school diploma. I was very happy, yet a little sad, leaving the school and the teachers that I had spent most of four years with. I was proud also because I was the first of the Christensen family to receive a high school diploma. I graduated in 1935.
Another thrill was when I was voted Queen of the ward and also of the Stake Gold and Green Ball. We had been voting for three mutual nites who we would like as queen. On the 4th night they announced my name. I was so thrilled. I never dreamed anyone even voted for me; I didn’t even vote for myself.
Now that I had graduated from high school I had to decide what I was going to do. I had wanted for a long time to get out of Wendell and meet new people. So I wrote to my Aunt Allien in Pocatello and she needed someone to take care of her children while she was working. So I decided to come to Pocatello and give it a try. It was here that I met Marvin. He was in Pocatello attending school and working as a meat cutter in his brother’s butcher shop. After a year of courtship we were married August 19, 1936, in the Salt Lake Temple.
Our first home was a little two-room house out on the farm that he and his brother bought. We lived here for a few months. Then we decided to buy a home in town. It was a red brick house on South Lincoln. It was here our first baby, a boy, was born. We named him Merlon Ray. When he was about a year old, I was asked to help in the Primary as a teacher. I accepted. It only lasted a month because I was expecting a new baby. On July 8, 1939, a baby girl came to us. We named her Helen Faye. We named her after me because I thought she would be my only girl, as I nearly lost my life when she was born.
When Helen Faye was a few months old, I was asked to help in the Junior Sunday School as a teacher of the beginner’s group. This was a good job for me as I could take the little ones with me to class. I worked at this job for two years, then I was put in teacher of the 8 and 9 year old boys. I taught this class for three years.
We were living out on the farm again. We decided the best place to raise a family is on a farm. We were expecting another baby, and on October 5, 1944, another little girl came to bless our home. We named her Lola after my mother. After a few months I was called back to teach church history class again. I stayed with it for 18 months, and then I had to resign as I was expecting another baby. On October 17, 1949 a baby boy was born to us. It was at this time I again saw the power of the priesthood work. I had developed internal poisoning and high blood pressure. The doc said he couldn’t save both me and the baby. But through the power of the priesthood and the faith and prayers of myself and my husband and family, my baby was born and lived although he was six weeks premature. The doctor said it was just a miracle that we both lived. He probably didn’t understand, but we did. We named this little boy Boyd Marvin. It took me about two years to get over this and get my strength back. Then I was ready to work in the church again. I was called into the Primary as teacher of the Guide Class. I enjoyed this work very much. I love to work with the boys. I stayed with this for two years then I was asked to be Second counselor and chorister of the Primary. I enjoyed the work very much.
At this time Marvin was called as a missionary to the Bannock Creek Indians. After a year of tracting and visiting their homes and holding cottage meetings, they decided to organize a branch out there. He was put in as President, and his brother Alma was clerk and historian. Brother Lamoni Tolman was a missionary helper. They started holding Sunday School, then after that Priesthood Meeting and Relief Society. Lucy Baird was teacher of the one class, ages from 4 to 17, and Marvin taught the adult group. In about six months Lucy got married and I was asked to take her place. I spent two of my happiest years working with the Lamanite people. When I was leading the singing they would try to sing. When we first went out there they wouldn’t hardly speak to you. Maybe answer “yes” or “no,” or maybe not at all. When I lead the singing they would try to sing if I didn’t look at them. If I turned my eyes toward them they would drop their head and stop singing. If you would ask them a question they would drop their head and most of the time not answer.
I made up my mind that I was going to make friends with them and win their confidence. I tried to get a lot of activity in our class: drawing, singing, finger plays. We would put on little plays and demonstrations for the parents. We acted out the Christmas scene and put on an Easter program, also a Mother’s Day program and all the children participated in it. Each Sunday you could see them grow as they grasped more of the gospel and its wonderful teachings. They were beginning to pray by themselves. They were beginning to answer questions and to participate in class work. They would hold their heads up when they sang. They were very sincere and humble once they grasped the gospel. If anyone broke the word of wisdom, such as smoking a cigarette, they wouldn’t partake of the sacrament until they had asked Brother Tolman or Marvin to forgive them. We would try to explain to them they should ask forgiveness of their Father in Heaven, and not do it anymore.
One incident I remember strengthened my testimony and also the testimony of the Lamanite people. There were two little boys riding horseback. Gary Woonsook had a rope stirrup on one side of his saddle. They were racing when Gary’s horse jumped to the side, throwing him off. His one foot caught in that rope stirrup and drug him for quite a ways. The horse’s foot struck him on the side of the head and left a deep gash just above his ear. It was so deep the brain fluid was running out. Finally his shoe came off and that freed him from the horse. The father saw this and they immediately took him to the hospital. The doctors gave him no hope. His arm and nose were broken and his head was badly beaten up. Brother and Sister Woonsook called on the missionaries to come and administer to him. There was Marvin, Alma, Brother Lamoni Tolman and Brother Arthur Hall, supervisor of all the Indian missions in this District. I was there also.
The prayer that was offered was wonderful. When the doctor examined him the next time, he said that Gary was improving but his condition was still critical. Many times after that his family and the missionaries would kneel around his bed and pray for him. He was unconscious for three weeks and that was good for him. If he had of regained consciousness, he would have moved around and the clots of blood on his brain would have moved and it would have killed him. As it was he lay still and gained his strength. He came out of it a strong healthy boy. I heard his parents bear testimony many times how their prayers were answered and how the power of the priesthood healed their son. There were many who asked to be administered to and all were made better because of their sincere faith. I had so many interesting experiences working with them. I can truly say they were two of my most happiest years of my life.
I felt sorry when we were released. But someone came n and took over and the work is progressing rapidly. They held dances, Mutual, and had a basketball team. Some have gone to the temple and been baptized for the dead. While we were there, we baptized 15 adults and 5 children into the church. It was a wonderful feeling to see this and think maybe some of things you did helped them to see the truth. There was one man I particularly became interested in. His name was Jim Simitzy. When we first went out there, he would bring his wife and children to church but would never get out of the car. We would say good morning to him and try to shake hands with him. Most of the time he wouldn’t answer and turned his back on us. He was very bitter against the white people because of the way they treated the Indians and because of the treaties and promises that had been broken. Every Sunday morning we would greet him and invite him in. after a time he would come inside the building and wait in the furnace room. A couple of months later he would stand and look in the door and listen to the services. Finally he came in and sat down but he would laugh and make fun of the sacrament and other things we did. I would always hand him a book so he could sing and he sneered at that. As time went on he started singing and bowing his head when we prayed. He listened to the lessons with interest. In Mutual they got him started dancing. It wasn’t long until he was one of the mission’s best supporters. He would help with activities and program, and he enjoyed seeing his family participate in the church programs. At this time he belonged to the Peyote Indian Church. They would chew peyote weed or spirit weed as they would call it. The effect it had on them was the same as marijuana has. They claimed to see and hear spirits while under the effects of it. That was the only church we had to contend with in the mission, but it had a strong hold on the people. We had to work carefully and prayerfully to try and accomplish our purposes. Mr. Simitzy hadn’t joined the church when we were released but I’m sure he will someday. His wife was a beautiful, sincere and humble person. She was a peyote also when we first went out there. One day she called the elders in to administer to her. She had been sick for quite a while and her mother who was a member persuaded her to do so. Because of her sincere faith, she was made well. Soon after this she was baptized into the church. She is one of the humblest and finest persons I’ve ever met. Her two children were baptized but she had one grown daughter that was married. She and her husband both belonged to the peyote church. Sister Simitzy was getting her to come out to church once in a while. The daughter had a heart attack and died. It was the only really child she had; the two younger ones were adopted. As she learned more about the church, she was especially interested in the temple work. She planned that as soon as possible she was going to do the temple work for her daughter.
During my work in the Bannock Creek Mission, I was also a counselor in the 11th Ward Primary. After about two years holding this office, I was asked to be manual counselor in the Mutual. The other counselor job (activity counselor) was open so I changed over to that. What a great responsibility it is.
By her daughter, Helen Faye Tolman Burrows:
Mom continued this job in the church until the time of her death. She loved working with the young people and they loved her. She was so much fun to be with and always had such neat ideas. Mom had a stroke while she was down visiting Aunt Ruth in Caldwell, Idaho. She seemed to be recovering and was able to come home in a couple of weeks. But the day she came home she had another stroke, which killed her. She died on July 12, 1956 at the young age of 40 years. She was a beautiful person, loved and honored by all who knew her.
Visit FamilySearch to learn more about Helen Christensen. Visit the Thomas Tolman Family Organization to find out how you can get more involved in family history.