General Relief Society president 1949-1974

Sister Spafford was great because she was obedient.  Let me illustrate.  When she graduated with her husband from Brigham young University, they moved with their two children to Salt Lake City where he had found employment.  They were, of course, active in the Church, and they moved into the Belvedere Ward.  The first week there Bishop Bowles called them in.  They were building a new chapel and needed all the help they could get.  He asked where they would like to serve.  Now that’s a little unusual but Sister Spafford was happy to have a choice.  She loved to teach, had done some professional teaching, so she asked to be assigned to either the Sunday School or the Young Women’s organization.  So the following Sunday she was sustained as second counselor in the ward Relief Society presidency.  She protested.  She used the word shocked and told Bishop Bowles, “That organization is for my mother, not for me.”  She said something about old women, claimed she didn’t have the right experience, and was bold enough to add, “And I have no desire to learn.”  But Bishop Bowles prevailed, and she accepted the call.  Her husband, Earl, was little comfort.  He reminded her that they had made covenants and that they would keep them.  This was a very trying time for her.

Because of construction and remodeling they held Relief Society in the basement of the chapel.  It was in the furnace room.  When the furnace was on it was terrible; when it was off it was intolerable.  Her children caught cold.  On at least two occasions against the counsel of her husband she asked to be released.  On both occasions the bishop said he would think about it.  Finally there was an accident in which she was very seriously injured.  After a period of treatment she was recovering in her home, but there were complications.  And I remind you that fifty years ago we didn’t have the medications we do now.  A terrible laceration on her face had become infected.  The doctor was called, and he said ominously, “We can’t touch this surgically.  It’s too close to the nerve that controls your tongue.  You could lose your ability to speak.”  As the doctor was leaving, Bishop Bowles stopped by.  “I’m just on my way home from meeting and saw the lights on.  Is there anything I can do for you?”  Sister Spafford in agony and tears said, “Yes, Bishop.  Now, will you release me from Relief Society?”  He said he would pray about it.  When the answer came back it was, “Sister Spafford, I still don’t get the feeling that you should be released from Relief Society.”  And she was not released.

Sister Spafford is great because she was obedient.  And I remind you that the test of her obedience was not before the prophets and presidents and the Apostles.  Her test was before an ordinary bishop, in an ordinary ward, an ordinary young woman had learned an extraordinary lesson.

The second word that characterized this great soul is service.  Sister Spafford was great because of her reverence for duty.  Can’t you just hear her say, “Why it’s our duty.  It’s our duty.”  When the national Council of Women was organized in the 1870s, the Relief Society was a charter member.  When Sister Spafford joined the general board she became our delegate to their conventions in New York City.  She was a very anonymous delegate, for we received no recognition at all.  Shortly after she became president of the (general) Relief Society, however, she was invited to make a presentation on compassionate service.  Oh, how she prayed and worked over her assignment!  The reputation of the Church, she felt, was hanging in the balance.

After her presentation which she felt went very well, she went to the luncheon in a large ballroom.  Prominent women from all over the country were seated at round tables.  Because of her presentation she was recognized for the first time as a Mormon woman, as a Latter-day Saint.  She went from table to table to find a place to sit.  As she would approach a table the chairs would be turned up against the table and she would be pointedly told, “This place is taken.”  When most of the women were seated, she stood by the door—alone, puzzled, angry, and deeply offended.  The national president arrived, complimented her on her presentation, and then sensing her emotion asked, “Is something wrong?”  Trying to hold back her tears, Sister Spafford said simply, “Tell me, please, where is it that you would like me to sit?”  This gracious woman looked about the room, saw the chairs, and said, “I understand perfectly.  I’d like you to sit with me at the head table today.”  And so she did.

But Sister Spafford was not placated.  Soon after her return she went to see President George Albert Smith and recommended that the Relief Society withdraw its membership from the National Council of Women.  She explained to the president that it was expensive in both time and money.  But most of all she said, “We don’t get anything out of it.”

President Smith, who was known first for his gentle love, became surprisingly stern.  He repeated her words, “We should withdraw from the National Council of Women.”

“Yes,” Sister Spafford recommended.

“We should withdraw because we are not getting anything out of it?”

“That is right,” she said.

Then President Smith inquired sternly, “Tell me, please, Sister Spafford, what is it that you are putting into it?”

She left his office that day a different woman.  She had been reminded by a prophet of duty and of service, and she would be obedient.  The day came when she was president both of the Relief Society, the largest and most important woman’s organization in the world, and of the National Council of Women, and for many years she was a delegate and an officer in the International Councils as well.

It was but a year ago that the National Council of Women reluctantly accepted a resignation that had been refused on several previous occasions.  I quote from a letter to her from the president of that council, speaking, I think, for all of us.  “Your post will never be filled.  Your inimitable style will never be duplicated.  Your personal standards will never be surpassed.  I dread the sorrow that will pervade that gathering when I read your farewell letter.”

…We are naturally reluctant to speak of our own spiritual experiences.  Nevertheless, I close with an experience that Sister Spafford and I shared.  Under ordinary circumstances I should not relate it.  Neither of us had spoken of it publicly until a year ago.  One morning she called me deeply concerned and wanted to “confess” as she put it.  The previous night she had spoken to a large gathering.  Without having intended to do so, she was prompted to relate the experience in which I also had a small part.  I felt that she had been prompted to do so.  And since she has spoken of it then, I will speak of it now.

On Sunday morning September 19, 1977, I awakened in the early hours of the morning greatly troubled over a dream that concerned Sister Spafford.  My wife also awakened and asked why I was so restless.  “Sister Spafford is in trouble,” I told her.  “She needs a blessing.”  When morning came I called her.  She was deeply troubled indeed.  I told her I had a blessing for her.  She wept and said it came as an answer to her fervent prayer the night long.  She had not been well.  There had been tests.  The day before the doctor told her the results.  They were frightening—ominous indeed.  There was a tumor and other complications.  Steven Johnson, an attentive young neighbor, assisted me in the blessing.  It was most unusual.  Her life was not over.  Her days were to be prolonged for a most important purpose.  Promises, special promises were given, among them that her mind would be sharp and alert as long as she lived.  There would be no diminution of her mental capabilities, and other promises not to be mentioned here, were given.  All of them now have been fulfilled, and she has accomplished those things so dear to her.  When further tests were made that next week, the tumor was not there…  When I talked to her one week ago today her memory was sharp, her mind was clear, and we talked as we had on previous occasions about the day of parting which now has come to her.

Address given by Boyd K. Packer at the funeral of Belle S. Spafford February 5, 1982,

as written in That All May Be Edified, by Boyd K. Packer, pgs. 115-119.