On July 1, Sister Flora A. Benson, wife of President Ezra Taft Benson, commemorated her 91st birthday. Elder Vaughn J. Featherstone of the Seventy wrote the following tribute to mark that occasion. The text in italics is from Sister Benson's comments and statements in addresses throughout the years.
Over the years Sister Flora Benson has sat at the side of President Ezra Taft Benson during many meetings. My wife and I have been privileged to be present with them on two or three such occasions.Each time we heard Sister Benson speak, she recited a marvelous poem by Edgar A. Guest, entitled "Home." This magnificent woman's love for this particular poem has always impressed me, for I have considered Sister Benson to be an example of all that is reflected in the thoughtful verses composed by this great poet-philosopher.
I would like to review this poem in paying special tribute to this grand and noble and elect lady of God who celebrated her 91st birthday July 1.
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A home is a place for the family - a place to repair, to retreat for warmth.
We picture a home as a place where we can let down, where we can laugh fully and openly, where we can sit in front of a fireplace or curl up on a couch with a good book. A place of warmth, food, security, and love.
Sister Benson has lived in houses all up and down this land. Of each house, she has quickly made a home. Here is her special formula: "I have endeavored always to dedicate my life to building a happy, successful home and family life on a solid spiritual foundation. To me my Church, my husband, and my family have been my first and most important considerations. Their successes, happiness, and worthy achievements have been shared by all."
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind,
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
Home will be filled with joys and sorrows. The family home evenings, parties, Sunday dinners, a father romping with his children on the floor, a mother reading to them on her lap, the excitement of school, Scouts, teams, and music are always fun.
There are also shadows. We hurt when a son or daughter does not have a date for the prom or comes home frustrated feeling friendless. Everyone is lonely sometime. We all have our own private battlefields, and sometimes they are overcast with dark shadows.
There is an attachment to home. A mother's apron string can stretch and stretch and stretch. Yes, even to a distant land or city.
From personal experience Sister Benson has shared her wisdom about the effect of "sun and shadow" on family life: "It takes sacrifice, work, trials, and sorrow, but the Lord gives us far more added joys and blessings when we work, pray, and achieve together as husband, wife, and children. As we follow the Lord's plan, we find that many of the greatest blessings come to families through the reverses, sorrows, and great adjustments which we have to make.
Over the years she has traveled throughout the world with her husband, but she has always been quick to admit that "the thing I love most about traveling is returning home to be with my flock - my family."
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
It ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything.
Home ain't a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;
Afore it's home there's got t' be a heap o' livin' in it;
A home is not more of a home because of wealth. True, it may be more comfortable and elegant, but things do not make homes - people do. Those who live in nipa huts, hogans, or trailer houses are tied just as much to their homes as those who may have much, much more. Home is what the people make of a house.
Sister Benson knows firsthand about wealth and riches: "Before my marriage I had inherited from a worthy father quite a portion of this world's goods. This I turned over to my widowed mother at the time of our marriage.
"I chose to marry a man, above all, rich spiritually and not rich materially. If I had my choice, I often said that I preferred that my husband be a farmer and that what positions of honor and material things would come to us we would achieve them together starting at the bottom.
"My prayerful wish was granted, and my husband later said, `You not only married a poor man materially, but you married a man in debt.' And I soon found that out, but that was wonderful. I learned some great lessons!
"I have never longed for worldly things. If the Lord needs my services in any way, I will do whatever He wants me to do.
"My lasting wealth is the gospel and children. We have often told our children, `We have little money to leave you, but of far greater value, we hope to leave you a testimony of the gospel, a rich heritage, a good name and clean bodies, and a love and respect for honest work."
Within the walls ther's got t' be some babies born, and then
Right there ye've got t' bring 'em up t' women good, an' men;
The responsibility of a true Latter-day Saint home will always be to instill virtues, values, ethics, integrity, character traits - all with a spiritual foundation.
Sister Benson has amused audiences everywhere as she has confided: "My husband and I always wanted 12 children, but the Lord sent us only six. I tell my husband that if we'd had twins every time we'd have made it!" They say children are `cheaper by the dozen,' but the Lord sent us a choice half dozen.
"We had a heavy debt on the farm. Work, budgeting, and planning were necessary to meet our obligations. Sometimes we would just get a cow paid for when we would have to sell her to pay the doctor for the arrival of a precious baby.
"We have always felt that our children are our most valuable possessions. We have found the best way to train and guide children is to be with them as much as possible."
And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn't part
With anything they ever used - they've grown into yer heart:
The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore
Ye hoard; an' if ye could ye'd keep the thumbmarks on the door.
Things do seem to grow into the heart.
High chairs and buggies, wagons, bikes, skateboards, scooters, tree houses, jacks, and dolls and trucks are all wonderful reminders of our children growing up. Some families have the babies' first shoes bronzed and they become more precious each year.
How many mothers have left the marks on the wall where the children measured their growth? We remember not only the thumb marks on the door but also the peanut butter and jam marks on the counter and the mud marks on the clean floor. What mother or father doesn't long to see those little hands and thumbs and feet and expressions just one more time?
What wondrous things Sister Benson must have in and on her heart. Now into her 10th decade of living, her heart is truly wrapped 'round her prophet-husband, her religion, her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren - all they have used have grown into her heart.
Ye've got t' weep t' make it home, ye've got t' sit an' sigh
An' watch beside a loved one's bed, an' know that Death is nigh;
An' in the stillness o' the night t' see Death's angel come,
An' close the eyes o' her that smiled, an' leave her sweet voice dumb.
Tears are part of family life too. Tears of joy and tears of sorrow. Victor Hugo said, "Tears are drops of the soul." All who have reached the marvelous age of Sister Benson have wept and sighed as loved ones have passed away.
President and Sister Benson have lived over threescore years together. Theirs has been a great, wonderful love story - Fridays at the temple, family home evenings, and he's always watching for her when they go anywhere.
Sister Benson is the constant preoccupation of her husband's mind. He has frequently expressed his love for her publicly and concluded with the prayer: "May God bless her that her days may be prolonged at least one day longer than my own to permit her to stand at my side so long as the Lord permits me to remain in mortality."
Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, an' when yer tears are dried,
Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an' sanctified;
An' tuggin' at ye always are the pleasant memories
O' her that was an' is no more - ye can't escape from these.
Emotions, stress, suffering, and trials sanctify the righteous before God. Home becomes dearer as we pass through each major trauma. Not only are we sanctified through trials but the home is also. It becomes a sanctuary.
Sister Benson has offered sound counsel for families: "Parents and children, stay close to each other. Study the gospel and the problems of the day together so that you will be fortified against false teachings and the evils of the world. Have family prayer together day and night, each taking turns, and have your personal private prayers day and night. Be pals with each other. Play, sing, dance, cry, and counsel together as parents and children. Keep your word with each other. Pray together when special problems arise. Often tell how much you love each other."
Ye've got t' sing an' dance fer years, ye've got t' romp an' play,
An' learn t' love the things ye have by usin 'em each day;
Laughter of children is contagious and echoes in our memories. Songs and music stir up images as do dancing and playing.
Sister Benson has been a great advocate of wholesome family activities and entertainment. Several years ago she admitted, "I can still keep up with all the new dance steps. It's surprising how we can dance our troubles away!
"Most of our recreational and cultural activities were enjoyed on a family basis. We held a weekly family home evening. We worked together, we danced together, we sang together, we used to go skating and swimming together. We had marvelous times together."
Even the roses 'round the porch must blossom year by year
Afore they 'come a part o' ye, suggestin' someone dear
Who used t' love 'em long ago, an' trained 'em jes' t' run
The way they do, so's they would get the early mornin' sun;
Flowers, to me, represent spring and summer, beauty and peace, cleanliness and softness.
Sister Benson's name, Flora, means "flower." and she . . . this thought needs to be developed
Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome:
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.
God bless you, Sister Benson. You have been a blessed example to husbands, wives, children, and families all over the earth. You have modeled the true Latter-day Saint home. Yours has been a marvelous gift to this Church. The complete support of your husband, your absolute commitment to God and your special love for everything that is sweet, beautiful, and lovely.
The blessings of your old Scotch grandfather, which you so often shared with the Saints throughout the world, is our sincere prayer for you on your 91st birthday: "May the Lord bless ya and the devil miss ya!"
