Elise Schmid Frey

All of us are products of those who preceded us, in ways that are sometimes hard to identify. We are most directly influenced by our parents, and sometimes have been blessed to know and learn from grandparents as well. But all who went before have contributed to the environment, family customs and traditions, learning, genetic tendencies, and spiritual foundation that make us up.

My maternal grandmother, Elise Schmid Frey, had a profound and direct influence on me for which I #GiveThanks. She was born 126 years ago today, April 18, 1895, in a little town in southern Germany. She was the 14th of 17 children (from the same mother and father!), most of whom survived childhood. She married and had only two children, my mother and my uncle. Some remarkable personal experiences led her to join the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the late 1920s. When her husband died at the beginning of WWII, she and her children survived horrible challenges during the war in Germany {that I have written about previously}. In 1952, she and her children emigrated to Utah. She never learned to speak more than a handful of English phrases; she was fortunate to be a part of a good community of German immigrants in Salt Lake City including an LDS German-speaking Ward. But she was a woman of incredible resilience, devoted faithfulness, and natural unselfishness.

We loved our little "Oma" and her sweet German conversation when I was a child. Though she continued to live in Salt Lake City, she often came to visit us in Payson and would stay for several weeks. I vividly recall her marvelous German cooking, her tireless cleaning, and her love of music. Later, when I was in college and would visit her in her apartment, she always had cookies or treats ready for me, and was always trying to slip me some money to help with expenses. She always seemed to be knitting or crocheting, making good use of her time, preparing gifts to share.

She was so proud when I was called to served a mission to Brazil, though I'm sure she would have preferred that the call were to "the Motherland." She wrote me regularly during my mission, letters full of faith and encouragement. She continued to support me through college, even though her health was failing. I finally graduated from BYU in 1983 and accepted my first job with IBM in Manassas, Virginia. On the way to the airport for me to leave and start that employment, we stopped to visit her; she was extremely weak but pressed my hand in recognition as we bid farewell. She actually passed away when I was waiting in the airport for the plane to board. It was as if she wanted to be sure I was safely on my way to my new life before she started on hers.

I will forever be grateful for my Oma and the lessons I learned from her. She was truly a remarkable woman, and her posterity owes so much to her example and faithfulness.