I don't really have a solid explanation for why I love Hyrum so much, but I think it has something to do with his loyalty, his faithfulness, and his humility. Hyrum went through some really hard things, particularly in his efforts to support his brother Joseph as he restored the Church of Jesus Christ. Hyrum even died for the cause after accompanying Joseph to Carthage where they were both put in jail. The jail was later raided by a mob, and Hyrum was shot in the face and in the back (at the Church History Museum, Hyrum's clothes are displayed, and you can see the bullet hole in the waistband. His death mask is also displayed, and you can see the place where the bullet entered his face).
{The statue of Joseph and Hyrum at Carthage Jail
where they were shot and killed}
A while ago, I revisited the story of Joseph's leg infection. When Joseph Smith was seven years old, he (and many other members of his family) had typhoid fever. He recovered after two weeks, but contracted osteomyelitis, which is an infection in the bone. Joseph was in severe pain, and multiple attempts to reduce the swelling and drain the infection failed.
Lucky Mack Smith, the boys' mother, later recorded, "Hyrum sat beside [Joseph], almost day and night for some considerable length of time, holding the affected part of his leg in his hands and pressing it between them, so that his afflicted brother might be enabled to endure the pain" (History of Joseph Smith, p. 55).
(Spoiler alert: eventually Joseph had an operation that was effective in saving his leg).
Hyrum would have been around Nicky's current age. As I read this part of the story, I felt my heart stir at this act of brotherly love. It was one of many acts of love from Hyrum. I received a prompting at that time that I would need to share this story with my children sometime.
A few weeks before this study session, Scotty and I were busy in the house while the kids played outside. Eva took a fall and and scraped her leg. The other three kids carried her in the house, laid her on the couch, bandaged her leg, tucked her in a blanket, brought her milk, and turned on her favorite show. They did everything they could to make her feel better. By the time Scotty and I knew what was going on, they'd made her comfortable enough to drift off to sleep.
I was so touched by their love and concern for their littlest sister - it was a beautiful testament that they really do care about each other.
Yesterday before school my kids were out of control with their fighting. There have been a lot of days like that lately - I feel like they are always at each others' throats, and I'm at my wits end (well, I'm always at my wits end, but I'm at the more end-y end of my wits end right now). I sent multiple kids to their bedrooms, and we still had half an hour before we would leave for school. I couldn't figure out how we would survive that long under one roof without someone losing some teeth. While the kids were banished to their rooms, I sat on the stairs with my face in my hands, trying to not go ballistic. Then a thought came to me, "Tell them about Hyrum."
So I called my kids into the room and told them about Hyrum. I told them how much he loved his brother - how he held Joseph's leg while he was in pain, and how he later died with him. Then I reminded my kids of the day that they helped Eva after she fell, and I told them I was so proud of them for being like Hyrum Smith.
I didn't say anything about the fighting - I didn't have to - and as a result, I am reminded of three things:
1). Hyrum is the bomb diggity
2). I can rely on the Spirit to help teach my children
3). Even though my household often resembles a cage fighting match, there is genuine love there
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