Small and Simple Things
By Sherlene Hall Bartholomew

I woke up this morning feeling under the weather, weighed down by my indoor version of inclement skies.  As I groped my way toward serving breakfast, bilious, black clouds rumbled outside our kitchen window, as if to punctuate their slushing down of our white Christmas.  I was not glad to face another dismal, chocolate-free day, weakly enforced by one of my more rabid New Year’s resolutions.

As I turned on our tree lights and put on music, hoping to cheer the scene, I felt glad that we don’t follow our neighbors’ prompt example.  Can you believe, they take down Christmas before Valentine’s has come and gone!  On a day like this, I hold on to what’s left of holiday cheer — small comfort that it is against January’s choice to huff its frigid way through two boxes of Kleenex.

So I turned up the volume and even started stretching to the beat, when the phone rang.  To my surprise, the person at the other end of the line was not a telephone solicitor, but Hedwig Schlaiss – a convert we had baptized when I was a missionary in Germany.

In perfect English, without a trace of accent, the now-grown girl we helped bring to the waters of baptism, said, “I’m calling, after some forty years, to thank you for changing my life.”

Funny, how a bad morning can change its mind.  I had not heard from Hedwig since my mission transfer from Ulm to Nürnberg, September of 1965.

After returning home from my mission, I enjoyed some correspondence with Hedwig’s grandmother, Babette Schlaiss, who was baptized, too, that day; but she quit writing, and I later learned she had lost interest in the Church.  I feared that Hedwig might have fallen through the cracks, as well.  What a thrill, after all these years, to learn otherwise!

Golden Harvest

As I soon learned, Hedwig came to the United States, completed an M.A. in speech therapy, married in the temple, and has four children – all of whom are active in the Church.  Two of her sons served missions.  Further, she now has eleven grandchildren, all being raised in faithful Latter-day Saint homes.

Hedwig served more than two decades in Young Women, not only as president and in each counselor’s position, but also as Stake Camp Director for four years, in addition to seven years as coordinator of other girls’ camp activities.  Right now she says she’s taking a rest, in that she’s “only” teaching the fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds in Sunday School, in their ward near San Antonio, Texas.

Before Hedwig called, I had always had a nagging feeling that my missionary efforts in Germany were mostly in vain.  We had been blessed with generous gleanings, but to my deep sorrow, few of our then deeply-committed converts survived life’s threshing with their faith intact. Thanks to Hedwig’s kindness of finding me after all these years, I have now caught sight of a more golden harvest than I had dared imagine.

Penned Perspectives 

Hedwig told me she has worked on her personal history and agreed to forward me the part telling about her conversion.  How fun it has been, comparing penned notes, from our different perspectives!  Hearing her recollections sent me to my mission letters home that doubled as my mission journal.  Opening those bound letters, now preserved in clear, archival sleeves, I was delighted to find several pages telling about Hedwig’s conversion.

Those letters told much more than I remembered about our first contact with Hedwig and her grandmother, or “Oma.”  I had forgotten what a hard time we had, at first, with President Fetzer’s request that we now visit every home in our area once each week, seven consecutive times!  We were to leave a pamphlet with each visit, even if the door was never opened to us. Most areas in our mission had been repeatedly canvassed, over many years, so I could not imagine a friendly response from the villagers of Türmle, the charming suburb of Ulm, where we found an apartment and started tracting.  I felt they would view our activity as more obnoxious than persistent and would respond, accordingly.

I had a new companion, Sister Karin Jankowsky.  She was a hard working native Austrian, newly arrived to our mission, who of course spoke the language, but who made me do the talking.  At times her determination to help my German by staying silent seemed downright persistent.  This was never so true as when I had to speak with the same people at the doors, seven weeks in a row.  We knew it would be hard, but as we discussed this new program, we agreed that we wanted to support our esteemed president and keep all the mission rules.  So we took a deep breath and prepared ourselves for lots of slammed doors.

Eyes Have It!

When we first came to the Schlaiss home, Babette did open the door, but told us she had been a member of her church for ten years and had no interest in our message.  She in fact told us, in no uncertain terms, that our work was of the devil! Her attitude toward us did not improve with subsequent knocks at her door.

Then one day, as we headed down the hill toward our apartment, we saw Frau Schlaiss coming toward us, on the other side of the path, with tears streaming. We crossed over and asked what was wrong.  Was there something we could do to help?

She told us she was not sad, but had an eye infection that made her weep.  I had suffered a similar ailment a couple of weeks earlier and had an extra bottle of eye drops that had greatly helped, so asked her to wait while we fetched it for her. 

The next time we visited Babette, she was in a more friendly mood.  While insisting that we were still terribly wrong about religion, she gratefully acknowledged relief for her eye condition and said she now knew that we at least had good intentions.  Bringing out religious pamphlets of her own, she said she would repay our kindness by teaching us the real truth.

Only for Our Sakes

We told her we had nothing to fear from reading her tracts.  We knew that truth shines even brighter when challenged and compared.  We explained that Latter-day Saints are encouraged to look for truth everywhere, and we said we hoped she felt the same way about learning from us.  I felt prompted to tell her that we would read a page in her literature for every page she read in the Book of Mormon.  She again told us what she thought of that book, but said she would suffer reading it only for our sakes.

We kept our end of the bargain.  Late at night, after our other work was done, we read her tracts.  I noticed, looking across the way to her apartment, that her lights were on at least as late as ours.

When we came to her home the next week, as part of our continuing round, she opened her door wide and invited us in to her heartfelt embraces.  Eyes brimming, she told us she knew the Book of Mormon was true and could not thank us enough for bringing it to her. 

As it turned out, Babette Schlaiss not only joined the Church, herself, along with Hedwig, but also invited friends of hers to hear our message.  One of them, Fräulein Wirt, also joined the Church!

Hedwig (left), with her “Oma”, Babette Schlaiss, and infant niece, May 1965

Love Made Tangible

My twenty-second birthday came within days of news that Sister Schlaiss would be baptized.  Somehow, Sister Jankowsky found out about my birthday and spread the word, helping make it an occasion to write home about.  Reading those letters, I was reminded that Babette baked two birthday cakes, as part of her generous gifting, telling me my 120 pounds did not look healthy, and she fully intended to fatten my frame (oh, for the day!).  Neighbors, friends, and church members filled our small apartment with bouquets of flowers and mounds of decidedly decadent German chocolate.

With all that, and surprise packages from home, it was a birthday of birthdays--especially because, as told in my letter, the following week:

The best present of all came from Hedwig, Sis. Schlaiss’ granddaughter, who informed me on my birthday that she has decided to be baptized with her Oma!  Next Saturday will be a day to remember.

Hedwig is ten years old and is one sweet, bright little girl.  Raised in a strong tradition of Bible study, she asks more intelligent questions than most grown-ups, when we give the lessons.  If you can believe, she gave the closing prayer all by herself the first time she went to Primary!  She and her grandmother read the scriptures together at least half an hour a day, and family prayer is already their custom.

Schwester Babette Schlaiss is one of the sweetest persons I have ever met ... I wish you could hear her talk about the new joy and meaning she has found in learning about the restored gospel.

As with all efforts to share the gospel, the friendship local Church members enjoyed with our contacts was crucial. Reviewing my letters reminds me about the tender ministrations of several local members, including Charlotte Metzger, who invited all us missionaries to many dinners in her home.  One thing for sure, we could always count on Sister Metzger to befriend anyone who wanted to learn more about the Church.

Hedwig mentioned in our conversation that Sister Metzger’s shepherding is a major reason she remained active in the Church through the years, long after we who first taught her moved on.  Indeed, without her caring, Hedwig may never have been baptized, in the first place.  I wrote a letter home that told my family how the Schlaiss’ preacher had denounced the Book of Mormon.  One night Sister Metzger felt prompted to take some baptismal clothing over to Babette.  When she arrived, she found members of Babette’s church congregation browbeating Babette and her granddaughter.  Sister Metzger was able to defend our beliefs to the point that the tormentors finally gave up and left.  The baptism went off without any further obstacles.

Hedwig’s own personal history shows that her baptism fulfilled a recurring dream she had experienced throughout her life.  Remembering the day of her baptism, she wrote:  That night I had a familiar dream—the same dream I had, as long as I can remember.  It started out with my walking along a path, engulfed by mist.  I wandered along and seemed to head toward a light that I knew would make me happy and give me feelings of joy. 

In all the years before, when I had this dream, I was never able to break through the mist and see the source of the light.  That night, on May 19, 1965, I again walked through the mist, heading in the direction of the light.  This time, the mist started to lift.  I saw the most beautiful light, and my feeling of joy was complete.  I realized that this was the answer to my prayers.  Not for years did I understand that the joy I felt was the love of my Savior, Jesus Christ.

A Star in the Window

Another section in Hedwig’s life story tells about Sister Metzger’s reunion with her, long after we missionaries left.  I did not know any of this and was deeply touched, reading Hedwig’s account:

By the time I was baptized, I had decided that school was not the place for me.  My grades were mostly failing, and I didn’t care.

Sister Metzger tutored me every Wednesday, after Primary.  At first I resented her and hated reading, writing and multiplication tables.  She must have had the patience of Job, but once she taught me how to read, it was all downhill.   I … went from Ds to a B average in six months.  Without Sister Metzger’s help, I would never have had the confidence to even try.  We read book after book together, starting a wonderful journey of reading that I still enjoy today.

During the years that followed Primary, through Young Women and then Relief Society, she was there, teaching me good manners, including how to walk, talk, and eat.  She taught me how to dance, do genealogy, and other skills I might need to succeed in life.  She made sure I graduated from Primary, Young Women, and Seminary and helped me submit my genealogy, taking me to do research at little churches.   She spent endless hours correcting my submissions to the temple and guiding me with other goals.  Looking back today, I don’t know how she had the energy to do all this.  She was a patient teacher, a wonderful role model, and became a dear friend.

After I married and moved to the United States, we corresponded, but communication became more and more difficult.  I had not heard from her in many years, so I thought she had gone to her Maker.

When my husband Andy and I went to Germany in 1999, my cousin Armin drove us around town to look at all the places we used to live.  I told Andy about a little lace star that had adorned Sister Metzger’s window for as long as I could remember.  It had been a beacon of light in the grayness of German weather and the turbulence of life as a teen, in the ‘70s. 

As I drove by her apartment – this time with my husband and cousin – I gasped to see a star still there in her window!  We decided to visit her apartment the next day.  What a visit we had!  We drank hot chocolate and ate pastries, while we remembered the many wonderful times we had together.  I told her about the lace star that told us she still lived there.  She said that for many years there had been no star in her window, after the old one fell apart.  Six months earlier, a neighbor made another one for her, and she decided to hang it in the window.  What a witness this was to me that the Lord is aware of the smallest detail!  We would not have stopped in, had the star not been in its familiar place.

Hedwig and I also talked fondly about her grandmother.  She told me she knows Babette is now in a healing place and looks with joy on her posterity’s faith and Church service.  I have no doubt that Hedwig and her family will stay on that good course, continuing to lift so many, including me.  Hedwig’s thoughts about the star in the window remind me of this favorite verse:

... behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise.  And the Lord God doth work by means to bring about his great and eternal purposes  ... and bringeth about the salvation of many souls.  (Alma 37:6-7, 41)

One Glorious Whole

What has all this got to do with my usual family history theme, in these “Turning Hearts” columns?  Everything, I’m convinced!  I now see more clearly how making the gospel of Jesus Christ available, either to the living or the dead, is one great, glorious whole, with eternal returns and ramifications.  Certainly those hearts turned most, by “small and simple” means, may very well be our own.

Did I happen to mention today’s magnificent weather?  Today even the heavens clap, applauding their end to our long drought. Maybe I’ll shock my indulgent neighbors and take down those Christmas props before Valentine’s Day, after all.  Now that I think on it, I’ll crack out that last small chunk of very German chocolate — suffer breaking my firm resolve — only, of course, for Babette’s sake!