A little about Maren Larsen

Excerpt from A Sketch of the Life of Hansine Larsen Anderson

by her daughter, Lillie Anderson Zilles

Niels mother, Maren Larsen lived in Hyrum. She had married again, to a man by the name of Jensen, who was several years older than she. He was her third husband. Maren was an immaculate housekeeper. She kept her stove and old brass and iron kettles polished until you could see them shine from the road if the door happened to be open.

Hans and Maren Larsen

Excerpt from A Sketch of the Life of Hansine Larsen Anderson

by her daughter, Lillie Anderson Zilles

(These excerpts tell us a little about the early life of Hans and Maren Larsen and the process of their immigration from Denmark to America in 1876.  Our direct ancestor Niels Larsen (brother of Hansine Larsen) was 8 years old at the time of their immigration.

Hansine Larsen Anderson was born the 23rd of August 1866, in Aesentrop, Holsbeck County Denmark; the seventh child of eight children. The two oldest children, Jacob and Anna were from a former marriage. The six children of this marriage were Christian, Christena, Hanna, Jens, Hansine, and Niels.

At the age of eleven she immigrated to America. Her father and oldest full brother died in Denmark. Christina was 17 years old at the time of his death.

The oldest half-brother, Jacob, was serving in the army of his native land when the rest of the family left. He came to the United States later, but not to Utah.

Hansine’s father was a butcher by trade. His home was one long building which housed the family on one end. The meat shop and slaughtering part were in the center and the livestock quarters on the other end. Everything was kept clean and spotless. After landing in the United States of America, her mother and six children came to Utah. They made their home in Hyrum, Utah.

Larsen Family Travels from Denmark by Christena A. Larsen

Larsen Family travels from Demark to America

Excerpts from the personal history of Christena A. Larsen Larsen found on Family Search.org

(These excerpts tell us how the Larsen's were introduced to the Latter Day Saint Church and the process of their immigration from Denmark to America in 1876.  Our direct ancestor Niels Larsen (brother of Christena Larsen) was 8 years old at the time of their conversion and immigation.

I was born on March 11, 1857, at Skalberg Odense, Denmark. I lived there until I was seven years old at which time my parents moved to Shallen, where I lived until I was fourteen years old. At the age of fourteen, as was the custom, I found employment in the home of a well to do farmer.

When I was sixteen years old my father died, leaving my mother a widow with seven children.

My mother was a great Bible student, but did not belong to any church. She visited around from one church to another but felt very dissatisfied. About this time the Mormon missionaries came into our vicinity and started to spread Mormonism. All of my friends and acquaintances seemed very opposed to the teachings of the missionaries. However, my mother, being very interested in anything pertaining to the Bible and always searching for something which would better satisfy her in a religious line, was interested in their message.

Disregarding the taunts and laughs of my friends, I went with my mother to one of the Mormon Meetings. As we entered the saints were singing and their song seemed to penetrate my very soul, and I felt that I belonged with these people. I couldn’t see why it was that people were saying they were wicked.

A few days after we had heard the message my mother had a dream in which she saw one of the missionaries and heard him say, “You have heard the truth, now accept it.”

My mother and I were baptized on the 19th day of April, 1876. We had to be very quiet about accepting the gospel. When I was baptized I had to wait until everyone had gone to bed and everything was quiet, then I threw the clothes that I was going to be baptized in out of the window and crept very quietly down the stairs and out of the court. I walked to my mother’s home where the missionaries were waiting to baptize us.

After we were baptized mother walked about halfway back home with me. After she left me, I had about a mile to go. All the way back I could hear something flying around me, making a terrible hissing sound. When I got to the gates of the court, they rattled and shook, making a terrible noise; this frightened me because I thought the dog would hear the noise and wake up the people in the house. However, I opened up the gates and the dog was lying peacefully in his kennel and did not even hear me enter. I was greatly amazed to think that I could hear all this noise and confusion and yet the dog, who was always a very good watch, dog, could be sleeping so peacefully, and a great fear entered my heart, but I seemed to hear a voice say to keep right on going, that this spirit had no power over me. I entered my room without any further trouble.

The next morning while I was in the garden, my mother came to see me. I told her of my experience. She sad to be very careful not to speak of it to anyone else, but that she had also heard the noise and had seen the evil spirits flying around us. She said that immediately after we had left the missionaries, she could see a form of different shapes and colors flying around us, hissing and spitting angrily. My mother said that she felt sure that it was the evil spirits and that they were angry because we had joined the church.

As soon as possible after this my mother sold all of her things and we made preparations to leave for Zion. My employer was so angry when he heard that I was leaving that he kept my wages for three months.

We left Denmark in June, 1876. We stopped in Liverpool, England to rest for a few days before starting on our voyage across the ocean. We traveled second class with the other immigrants. When we arrived in New York, I was so bewildered; I can scarcely remember what happened. However, I know that as soon as we were allowed to, we came on to Utah with other converts.

In Ogden we were met by elders of the church, who took us in their wagons to Mantua, where we took up our new life among converts who were mostly of our own nationality. Among the elders who met us at Ogden was Lars A. Larsen and we travelled in his wagon, arriving at Mantua July 23, 1876.

Matilda "Tilde" Larsen by Delores Larsen Allen

 

 

Matilda Frederiksen Larsen

Excerpts from the Personal History of Delores Larsen Allen (her Daughter)

(This was all hand written by Delores L. Allen in a red notebook in the late 1970's or 1980)

My mother Pauline Emilia Matilda Fredericksen was born April 23, 1872, Sindal Denmark, daughter of Christain Fredricksen and Flora Spaanheden. Mother at the age of thirteen, and her sister May, age eleven, left their mother and home in Denmark June 13, 1885 and came to America with the Mormon missionaries after being baptized May 18, 1885. They arrived in Ogden, Utah July 8, 1885. She and my father Niels were married in the Logan temple, Oct. 1, 1890.

I shall write briefly of my parents -- grandma and grandpa Larsen as they were called, or Tildie and Nelse to the neighbors. 

Mother was a shy little lady, short and stocky in build. She didn't have much to say while in church but if you we talking to her alone she could really preach you a sermon. And she had many favorite scriptures/sayings she liked to quote -- such as:

"Stay close to the Lord so he will be there when you need Him."

"Never let your right hand know what your left hand is doing."

"The Lord loves a cheerful giver."

"I the Lord am bound when you do what I say, but when you do not what I say you have no promise."

"Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven."

"Endure to the end."

"A chapter of scriptures a day keeps Satan away."

After father died and she was alone she made her home here with us for seven years when she quietly passed away after being ill for only two days. She left me the most prized possession, her testimony of the gospel.  She said she knew the gospel was true the first time she heard the missionaries preach in the building near their home in Denmark. And that our Heavenly Father was her dearest friend, especially when she and he younger sister came to this country at the age of eleven and thirteen. They couldn't speak English, had no friends nor relatives and were strangers to everyone.

That was why she was kind and friendly, all the rest of her life, to new people when they moved to our neighborhood. She took food, quilts and clothing to the needy and never let anyone know about it. She was indeed an angel of mercy, always helping someone when they needed help most.

We didn't have much of this world's goods, but we had a roof over our head, never went hungry and had enough clothes to keep us warm in the winter. Best of all we had parents who cared and gave us the help and security we needed. They were truly an anchor in our home.

Sticking Plaster Plastic Surgery-By Dallas Max Schneider

Sticking Plaster Plastic Surgery

Excerpt from Remembrances of Rosabelle Larsen Schneider, My Mother

By Her Son Dallas Max Schneider 

All of the Larsen family helped milk the cows. Rose and her sisters washed the milk buckets and cans clean every day. One day she slipped and fell on the protruding socket that held the pails handle. It cut like a knife through her lower lip and slashed it open from the upper lip to the chin. It hung in two separate pieces, bleeding profusely.

Grandfather hurriedly hitched up his horses and drove as fast as he could to Logan, the only place there was a doctor. Grandmother held Rose in her arms with a towel place on her torn lip. The doctor was not in his office and unavailable, so they went to Grandfather's sister's home, known to us as, "Aunt Steeny." Aunt Steeny, (her real name was Hansine Larsen Anderson) was skilled in many medical things and when she had stopped the bleeding of Rosabelle's terrible wound she had Grandfather go to the store and buy some sticking plaster.

She mixed the plaster together to the thickness she desired and then carefully pulled the severed lip together and placed the sticking plaster over the wound and held it there until it became solid and unyielding. They left this mold on Rose's lip for some time and when it was removed it had healed beautifully, leaving only a thin red line that eventually went away leaving no scar. Had the doctor been available and had attended Rose, he would have put several stitches in her lip and the disfigurement of this beautiful child would have been everlasting ugliness.

When she would tell us about her cut lip, she would have to show us children the almost invisible white line that was hard to see. It went from the top of her lip to her chin. It was a vicious severing. I have no idea what sticking plaster was but it was Aunt Steeny's primitive form of plastic surgery and it worked a miracle upon our Mother.

Snakes near the Spring-by Dallas Max Schneider

Snakes near the Spring

Excerpt from Remembrances of Rosabelle Larsen Schneider, My Mother

By Her Son Dallas Max Schneider 

The job she hated and feared the most was to be with her father when he was plowing. There was a little spring with a few willow trees, bushes and a limited amount of grass growing around the life giving water and Grandpa would send my mother (about age 10) down to that spring to fill his water can that he drank from. Little Rose would hesitate to go down there because there were water snakes lurking in those bushes and trees. They were harmless but still dreadful snakes to a child.

Her father would call out as he made his plowing rounds, "Are you going to let your poor old father choke to death on dust because he can't have a drink of water?"  She would gird up her courage and hurriedly fill his water can and bring it back to him and he would give her high praise for her daring fortitude but the words of praise did not work and she was always frightened.

One day after her father pleaded for his water, she went and as she dipped the can into the cool water a snake slithered out of the sparse grass and made a hissing sound at her. The harmless snake so frightened her that she fainted and when Grandfather came around he wondered where his little girl had gone and he got off of his plow and rushed to the spring to find his Rosabelle lying on the ground unconscious. He gently cradled her in his arms she soon opened her eyes and clung to her father, shivering with fright. He never made her go for water again. 

The Grandest Grandparents-By Dallas Max Schneider

 

 

The Grandest Granparents

Excerpt from Remembrances of Rosabelle Larsen Schneider, My Mother

By Her Son Dallas Max Schneider

Grandpa and Grandma Larsen's (Niels and Matilda Larsen) home was a cozy place surrounded with happiness and plenty of the necessities of life. No money, mind you, just the things that were necessary. Never a want for food. Grandfather Larsen's mother lived in Logan. Her first husband had died and she had remarried and went by the name of Maren Jensen.

Sometimes on a summery Saturday afternoon Grandpa Larsen would hitch up his horses to the buggy and load his family into that wonderful conveyance and drive to see his mother. It took about 90 minutes to make that trip one way. The children thought it was just about the greatest adventure of their lives to make this trip and Grandpa saw to it that there was excitement. Whenever he came to a stream or river he never used the bridge but would fearlessly plunge the horses, buggy and all into the swirling flood to the delightful screams of joy of the children and emerge to the opposite bank, dripping wet. They were dry but the buggy drenched.

Grandma Larsen was a frightened fearful little person and it would always terrify her when Grandpa would say, "It's time to dust the buggy off and cool the horses down."  One time she could not stand the strain he was inflicting upon her and with a baby under each arm she jumped out of the buggy at the rivers edge. Grandfather's fun came to an end after that display of fear and to the disappointment of the children he used the bridges from that moment on. 

My Mother remembers the very last time they went to see their grandmother. They had been there for the afternoon and the day was growing short. All were seated in the buggy and about to depart for home. Grandmother Jensen followed them out to the buggy and said to her son Niels, "Come again soon but don't bring the children."  My grand parents were wounded by that rather callused, insensitive remark and never went again to visit his mother.

Grandparents in that day had a different feeling for their grand children than now. We were blessed to have had loving grandparents who were unlike the normal ones that would ignore their grandchildren. Every birthday I received a book and a silver dollar and I never appreciated it until the book and the silver dollar stopped coming when I was 18. Then I began to treasure the sacrifice they had made to show their love for me. They emerged in my child like mind as great heroes and heroines that were truly worthy of our respect and awe. In my mind there were no one like my grandparents in every virtue of human kind.