Little Epistle Real Beauty

My friend Martin Guitar and I were talking about beauty. Martin is a sentimental guy, and quoted this from Joe Cocker’s, hit “You are so beautiful.”

Which for some reason reminded me of this saying and of this woman’s story. The saying is, “Life is a Grindstone, and whether it wears us down or polishes us up depends on what we are made of.” And the woman, her name was Caroline.

On the surface Caroline was a slim beautiful young woman living in a large comfortable home on her father’s farm. They dined on fine china, and enjoyed the good life.

But what was she inside? The years would tell.

She married. Their first child died. Seventeen years later her beloved husband died leaving her with six children. Four months later her mother died.

In 1919 Caroline’s sister died six hours after giving birth to a son. Caroline took the baby and reared him as her own. They named him Leon Weston. They called him Pete.

Less than a month later Caroline’s beautiful 18 year old daughter died. Her singing had drawn praise from a New York opera company. She chose love and marriage. Now the lovely voice was stilled, and the voice of the baby developing inside her was never heard.

The accumulated losses preyed on Caroline’s own health. She developed diabetes and lived the rest of her life on a strict diet and three injections of insulin every day.

Caroline and her sister had married brothers. It was fitting the widow and widower should marry, to rear the blended family of fourteen children.

Caroline’s second husband died from a farm chemical that ate away his flesh inside and out in a week.

Caroline and the children ran the farm and survived. And succeeded in creating a happy home where friends loved to gather. The children all said later that they never felt poor.

Another widower married Caroline to care for her. A few weeks later he had a stroke, and became an invalid. Caroline cared for him for five years. He died.

During all this she served as Relief Society president in her church for 18 years giving care and consolation to families who had troubles in the twelve square miles that was their ward.

Caroline paid the bills by selling eggs from her flock of 1,000 chickens. She loved the chickens that laid eggs. She liked the ones who didn’t lay. She liked them especially for Sunday dinner.

She survived the great depression by self reliance. She refused government help. When the well broke her boys hauled water in buckets for the family and the chickens until she saved enough money to fix the well.

She survived the pain in her legs and feet from gangrene and diabetes.

She survived in part by a cheerful outlook and determination to never complain.

Fittingly, she is best remembered because of chickens. Little Pete who once helped peddle her eggs became the father of Kentucky Fried Chicken. He helped pay for a building that blesses lives throughout America and many nations. The Brigham Young University Division of Continuing Education. The building and the worldwide correspondence carry the name of Pete’s beloved aunt/mother Carrie.

Caroline Hemenway Harman; the grinding wheel of life polished the beauty within her. The eternal beauty