By Maisie Harris Williams, July 1990 

You have probably heard of the show, “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers,” but as I look back I could write a show called, “One Sister for Seven Brothers.” Thus it was that Mary Davis was born into a family with seven brothers: Joe, Hen, Dale, Bud, Harold, Zeph, and Parley. Cassie, another sister, passed away in her teens, leaving Mary the only girl in the family. What a heartache it must have been for Uncle Tom and Aunt Rachel to part with a beautiful young lady. 

Aunt Rachel was my mother’s sister and I was born on her birthday, January 23rd. She nor I ever forgot that important date. She always showed me special attention and always gave me a birthday present. I used to ride my horse, Mandy, to Henry D. Jones’ place where I took lessons from his wife, Phyllis. I hated the piano lessons but loved the rest of the day because I would ride over to Aunt Rachel’s place and have dinner with the family and got to be spoiled just a little bit. The big kitchen table had a bench on one side instead of chairs and I thought that was something special. I loved to sit there and enjoy the wonderful dinner that Aunt Rachel and Mary cooked. I can still see the old cook stove, and the separator that stood by the west window nearby. They always milked cows and this was used to separate the milk from the cream. Cream was not a luxury at their home, it was a necessity and they always had plenty of it.  

I loved all the family, each one had a special place in my heart. I was so crazy over horses and they always had so many beautiful ones and their old shed was filled with bridles, saddles, spurs and harnesses. How I enjoyed going in there to look at them and wished that part of them were mine. I would have had fun being their sister, we all seemed to mesh together. My father was a farmer and had no sons, only six girls. We all in our own way tried to help him with the cows, hay, watering and all the hard jobs that farmers had to do. How he must have longed for a son, even though he told me that as long as we arrived healthy that was all that mattered. I was daughter number 5 and I hate to dispute his word but he must have been a little disappointed when I came along. Then 6 years later to have another daughter must have hurt somewhat. With so much work to do my dad would hire some of the Davis boys to help him. I was very small but I do remember Dale and Hen living with us and sleeping in the little back bedroom. We had two beds in the dining room and even slept on the east porch in the summer where it was cool and inviting.  

Hen used to play cards with me every night and I can well imagine how boring it must have been after a long hot day in the hay but he never refused me anything. One night I threw the Old Maid cards in the big old stove and ran in to awaken him to tell the good news. He must have had pleasant dreams that night. They were so worn and the Old Maid was so obvious that he must have cheated some to let me win so many times. How I loved him. 

I remember Mary as being such a great help to her mother. With so many mouths to feed, no electricity and all the hard work that a farm wife had to do in those days, I can, in my mind’s eye, see the old gas washer churning away as the clothes were washed and see all the clothes lines filled with shirts and pants. Even the fences took the overload that the lines could not accommodate.  

Big dinners were always fixed at noon and Mary was always by her mother’s side helping her to prepare them. There was no Wonder Bread in their home because making bread was almost a daily routine. With 9 children, father, mother and usually a visitor or two, the kitchen table was constantly in use.  

Mary learned to cook at an early age as well as wash, iron, clean and help with the garden and yard. I can still see her standing at the ironing board doing the starched shirts and the dampened clothes were always waiting for her to do. Saturday night in Malad was a big night and her brothers all went to the dances in the old Le Grand Hall. They were all neatly dressed in shirts and pants that Mary had done for them. Aunt Rachel was taught in her home that cleanliness was next to Godliness and she in turn taught this to Mary, her only living daughter. She was always spotlessly clean as was her home and yard. 

Thanksgiving was a special day in our family and we always had a big chicken dinner with all the trimmings. As a small child, I can remember going with Betty Jean, Aunt Kate and Uncle Henry to spend this great day with the Davis family a few times. It was a glorious occasion to go there and see all the food that had been prepared. There was always turkey and goose and the pies lined up on the kitchen table were indeed a sight to behold. Little did I realize how many hours had been spent to prepare this lovely dinner. They did not go to the grocery store and buy a turkey ready to be cooked but they raised them, cleaned them and cooked them in the old cook stove. What a labor of love this Thanksgiving dinner was. The big folks ate in the front room. Betty and I had the best seats in the house with little chairs pulled up to the round discs on the old separator. We felt very important and did not realize that there was not enough room at the big table for us. We never even had to do dishes. There must have been scads of those with so many of the family in attendance. Can you even imagine how many dishes and clothes were washed in that home, how many shirts were ironed, how many beds were made and how much cleaning was done? Hundreds of meals were prepared to keep that many hungry boys fed and I can well imagine they were constantly hungry. Mary did a big share of the work to make all this possible. 

Aunt Rachel would come to visit with mother. Aunt Maggie and Gint came occasionally and the afternoon was spent laughing and talking in Welsh. We always knew that someone was in the family way, as that is what they called being pregnant in those days, when they whispered and spoke in their native tongue. They had such fun times together and we as children had fun just skipping through the room and listening to a word or two as we passed. With so much hard work to be done, I wonder now how they had time to visit, but they did. 

I grew up and got married as did Mary and her brothers. My visits to Aunt Rachel’s place were almost ended. Our love for each other never did end and I always looked forward to our birthdays as we each grew older. She and Uncle Tom passed away but the memory of the Davis family will live forever in my mind. Dale and Bud married and moved next door to our home in St. John. I enjoyed visiting them with them and watching their families grow up. We have always kept in close touch with all the Davis cousins. We lived together and loved each other. 

One night I went to the rest home in Malad and my heart swelled with pride when I saw Mary and Dale sitting there in their chairs, waiting for the entertainment we had prepared for them. They did not know me but I knew them and my mind rushed back many years when we were all young and happy together. I pictured my childhood days when I rode Mandy up the lane to Uncle Tom’s and Aunt Rachel’s home where I was greeted with open arms. It was like a long lost child returning to the home of their birth. I can imagine the reunion of Mary meeting her loving husband, her father, mother, Joe, Hen, Bud, Cassie and Parley. How their arms must have been open to her to welcome her home, a home where they will never be parted again by sickness or death. There will be a great reward on the other side for Mary. She was a loving daughter, sister and wife and gave most of her life helping those she loved the most. She lived unselfishlessly, died on her birthday and is now in a place of rest, enjoying the closeness of family and friends. 

Mary, we loved you.