Hansine Rebecca Jorgensen Frost - my Great-Grandmother

My uncle, Vernon Parent, wrote his memories of his grandmother, Hansine Rebecca Jorgensen Frost (1865-1935):

Dear Family,

My memories of Grandmother Frost are fleeting, but I reverence the great work she accomplished in rearing her family and supporting Grandpa Frost in his mission to Denmark with her small family and a farm to manage up in Cache Valley just South of the Benson ward chapel. She had limited help from her Jorgensen brothers, but accomplished most of the farming by herself while tending 3 small children. She was a great help to my mother who had challenges with my older brother, Joseph, and Grandmother tutored Joseph in their Riverton home for a year to allow Mother more time to make a better adjustment to life on our Minnesota farm, and overcome the undercurrents in our Grand Forks branch of the church, from sister who had eyes on dad as a future husband, only to have a Utah girl snatch him up in a surprise manner! Grandmother Frost received inspiration that mother would marry Dad the first time she met him when he came to her Bluffdale home seeking the young lady he had seen in his dream, and she told mother that he was her intended mate to which Mother exclaimed, "Mother, I do not even know the man." She visited our farm home in Minnesota, pitching in to help Mother during 1931 when Virginia was on the way, and so I am blessed to be in a photograph with both of my grandmothers!

Grandmother Parent, Grandmother Frost, Vernon, Elaine, Virginia, and Marilyn Parent

Grandmother Frost accompanied Peter on their mission to the Grand Forks district, and so was able to give loving support to Mother and we children during their 1934-1935 proselyting mission, until a short time before her death in 1935. This last visit was always a great comfort to Mother who felt isolated from her family in Utah!

Aunt Geneva inherited most of the belongings from Grandfather and Grandmother Frost and our cousin helped Aunt Geneva organize and type up copies of some of their family history materials. Now cousin Sherrie Burdick has acquired some of those history documents, and is sharing with the Frost family members. Thus I am forwarding the attachment she shared with me, so you will know and remember what a great and spiritual and loving grandmother I know and appreciate. Not only was she spiritual, sensitive, and caring, she was also one of the hardest workers for her family, but also very caring and diligent to serving others, even hobos who came to their home in Salt Lake City asking for a handout. In fact, Grandfather was continually trying to remove the "good for a meal" markers left on their property, informing the hobos that this house was always good for a kind and generous handout. All of Grandfather's Danish converts also enjoyed Grandmother's good cooking and generous heart staying in their home for extended periods until they established themselves in Zion.

Grandfather Frost, Vernon Frost Parent, Grandfather Parent

The following is a letter from a Benson Ward, Cache Valley, friend Celestia Rogers, who attended Rebecca Jorgensen Frost's funeral in Riverton, Utah:

Logan, Utah, June 26, 1935

Dear Brother Frost and children,

You, no doubt, have decided I was not going to keep my word in writing when I returned home from the funeral of dear Sister Frost. No! Never could I forget. I have had you all in my thoughts and prayers, many, many, times.

My love and sincere sympathy go out as a true friend and comforter. I must say, outside of my own family, she has been more to me than anyone in my life - to encourage me in my trials and sufferings, and strengthen me when weak, giving me hope when faint - a true mother and sister indeed.

I felt during the funeral that half had not been told, and I never felt in my life more of a desire to speak of one's true virtues and goodness than there. Since coming home, I can't think of her as gone from us, for I seem to feel her sweet influence more than before.

I feel as though I had been down there on a very brief visit with you and saw nearly all of your family, and had a few words with you all.  Only she was sleeping, and I dare not disturb her sweet rest, but that sweet countenance is so clear in my mind that it will never be erased from my  memory.

As I told our girls, it hardly seemed that death had come because her spirit was felt so plainly. She has filled her mission here completely, and I feel that her good deeds will ever go on here through her fine family of boys and girls. May each of them remember her good counsel and live over again all the wonderful examples she set for them to follow.

The older they grow, the more they will understand how to follow her footsteps. May they all have that desire and ever pray for guidance to obtain the goal she has won. I feel with all my heart, that I have ever walked by her side, a most worthy husband and father.

May our Father in Heaven, who is all merciful and loving, comfort and cheer us in our loneliness, that we may understand and feel in our souls that he has given us one of the most precious gifts he could possibly bestow upon his loving children.  She was a true, devoted wife and loving mother for time and all eternity, and I feel I have in her a true friend....

Now, I am writing this to all. I hope the children will all be able to read it, for it is my Heart Sentiments and Sympathy and love to all.

I would love to have a short letter of acknowledgment from all of you, for you are all near and dear to our hearts. Mark and our girls join in love and friendship.

From true and loyal friends,
Brother and Sister Rogers and families
Come and see us (Celestia and the girls)
I trust this finds all well.

(Note from Aunt Geneva: Celestia Rogers was our close neighbor in Benson ward. I was named for her - Celestia Geneva Frost).

Rebecca Jorgensen Frost's Memories as a Young Girl

I really enjoyed reading the following account of my maternal great-grandmother, Rebecca Frost, that my dad sent me:

Memories of Rebecca Jorgensen Frost (My mother's mother)

Now at the age of sixty-six years I am about to put into effect the thought that has prompted me for many years — namely, to write some of my experiences and also some of the things that have come to my observation during my life thus far.

Before I go any farther, I want to confess my mistake and hope none of my posterity shall do as I have — that is, neglected to keep a diary, and therefore have forgotten many things that might have served as faith promoting to others. I must now trust to my memory, prompted by the Holy Ghost which leads into all truth and brings to the memory things of the past.

I can say, as Nephi of old, that "I was born of goodly parents," on the sixth of March, 1865, in Brigham City, Boxelder County, Utah. I am the sixth child of eight — three girls and five boys. Their names according to age are: Jacob, Isaac, Abraham, Anna Maria, Mary Christina, Hansine Rebecca, Joseph Christian, and Moses Peter Jorgensen.

When I was six weeks old the family moved to Logan, Cache County, Utah. My mother took her turn at driving the loose cattle, leaving my sister and me asleep in the wagon. Once on coming to the wagon, she found my sister lying across my face, nearly smothering me.

They located in Logan, being among the earliest settlers in Cache County. Here Father assisted in making canals, building bridges and meeting houses and other improvements required to convert a desert into a fit abode for a progressive community. It was here that my infancy and childhood were spent.

One of my first recollections was the iron pot in which our food was cooked hanging in the fireplace and the Dutch oven in which our bread was baked. I remember the cheerful fire which furnished both warmth and light. My Father always liked a good fire so he furnished plenty of good dry wood chopped in large pieces. Another thing that fastened itself on my memory was the clicking of Mother’s knitting needles at night or before light in the morning when I would awake in my little trundle bed.

Perhaps some would ask what a trundle bed is. Well, it was a small box-like affair that could be hid under a large bed during the day by means of a curtain hung around it, for every space of the two rooms had to be utilized.

Our home seemed to be a place where the children of the neighborhood collected and sometimes after we had frolicked abut the yard, we were allowed to play games in the house, such as "Drop the Handkerchief," "Ring around the Roses," "King Williams," "Jolly Butcher Boys," and others. Other times we would sing songs, such as: "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean," "This Night We’ll Join the Revelry," "I Wish I Was an Apple," "The Drunkard’s Dream," and others.

When Mother’s turn came to entertain, she usually had a Bible story for us. I always enjoyed them — the story of the creation, stories of Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph who was sold into Egypt, the Israelites, the kings, and the dividing of the Kingdom after the death of Solomon. She could tell us in story form the contents of the Bible from Genesis to the book of revelation.

Later in our lives we children always knew who to call on when we needed assistance in finding certain passages on any subjects from the Bible.

Father was very entertaining and kept up on present happenings. He always took a paper which was published in Omaha, Nebraska (The Pioneer) in which he was able to keep posted not only on current news, but also news of happenings in Denmark. He could also keep our attention by relating his early experiences in his homeland and also as a pioneer in Utah. Father took pleasure in singing Danish songs and had a very good voice. Mother’s lullaby songs had a charm for me, although she could not carry a tune. She often recited love longs.

About 1870 my parents decided they hadn’t enough land for their five sons and there was land across Bear River that could be homesteaded. So they ventured out, although they knew there would be many difficulties to encounter. I well remember the first time I was taken out to the new claim. We arrived in the evening. On awaking that beautiful morning in May, I could see the rays of sun pouring through the cracks of the door of our little shanty. We youngsters soon dressed and went out to survey the surroundings.

The first thing that took our attention were the pretty flowers raising their heads above or nestling among the tall bluegrass that had been left to grow and dry out in the fall without being disturbed for centuries perhaps, although there were some wild Texas cattle there. We wandered on for about a quarter of a mile along the hill until we reached a clump of trees in a cozy nook in the bend of the hill. This drew our attention at once to the haw berries, choke cherries, service berries, and other wild berries that interested us. At the foot of the hill ran a clear, sparkling stream. Here we later spent much of our leisure time, hunting birds nests, making playhouses, and so far.

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood,

when fond recollection presents them to view:

The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood,

and every loved spot that my infancy knew.

[The document written by Hansine Rebecca ended abruptly at this point and I don’t KNOW where the rest of her story is. I found this while searching through my files for something else so please Help me find the remainder!