Raised From the Dead, A Story that occurred on March 3, 1891

Extracted from LeRoi C. Snow, “Raised From the Dead,” Improvement Era, vol. 32 (1929), no. 12, pp. 882ff.

Introduction

Mary Ellen (Ella) Jensen, who was born on August 3, 1876, caught scarlet fever and passed into the spirit world on March 3, 1891. She returned to mortality upon being administered to by priesthood of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. (She later became the mother of many children and lived to a ripe old age). Leah Rees (now Mrs. Wilford Reeder), her girlfriend, had been attending to the sick girl and reported that at about three or four o’clock in the morning:

“I was suddenly awakened by Ella calling me to get the comb, brush and scissors. She wanted to brush her hair and trim her finger nails and get all ready, “for,” she said, “they are coming to get me at ten o’clock in the morning.” I asked who was coming to get her. “Uncle Hans Jensen and the messengers” she replied. “I am going to die and they are coming at ten o’clock to get me and take me away.” I tried to quiet her, saying that she would feel better in the morning if she would try to sleep. “No,” she said, “I am not going to sleep any more, but I am going to spend all the time getting ready.”

She insisted that I get the comb, hairbrush and scissors, which I did, but she was so weak that she could not use them. As I was brushing her hair, she asked me to call her parents. I explained that they were tired and asleep and that it would be better not to disturb them. “Yes,” insisted Ella, “you must call them. I want to tell them now.”

The parents were called and as they entered the room the daughter told them that her Uncle Hans, who was dead, had suddenly appeared in the room, while she was awake, with her eyes open, and told her that messengers would be there at ten o’clock to conduct her into the spirit world.

The father and mother feared that the girl was delirious and tried to get her to be quiet and go to sleep. She knew their thoughts and said, “I know what I am talking about. No, I am not going to sleep anymore. I know I am going to die, and that they are coming to get me.”

Death occurs as predicted

Ella, realizing the end was very near, summoned each one of her family to kiss and bid them goodbye. She called each one by name as they came to the bedside. But her brother Budd was out and had not returned.

As it drew toward ten o'clock, she felt she could not go until she had seen him. She was gasping for breath and exerting all her strength to hold on until Budd got back. Grandma Jensen arrived, and just as Ella had embraced and kissed her, Budd came in with Mrs. Nelson. Ella threw her arms around her brother’s neck, kissed him, and then fell back on her pillow—dead. It was just ten o'clock.

Return to the body

Ella’s father left at once to report to President Snow (then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve) and consult him regarding arrangements for the funeral. Sister Nelson washed and laid Ella out, dressed her in clean linen, and Budd took the doctor back home, who had been called in this emergency. Meanwhile, news of her death spread about.

It was more than a mile to town and so by the time Jacob Jensen, Ella’s father had hitched up the horse and driven there it was towards noon. He then returned with President [Lorenzo] Snow and Rudger Clawson, who were at a service in the tabernacle. All were greatly surprised when after standing at Ella’s bedside for a minute or two, President Snow asked for consecrated oil.

He handed the bottle of oil to Brother Clawson who anointed Ella, after which (Pres. Snow) sealed the anointing. Particularly impressive were the words he used, especially when he said, “Dear Ella, I command you, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, to come back and live. Your mission is not ended.” And then he uttered the command, “Come back, Ella, come back! Your work upon the earth is not yet completed. Come back! You shall yet live to perform a great mission.”

After this Ella remained in her dead condition for... more than three hours after she had died. Her mother and father were sitting by the bedside, watching, when all at once she opened her eyes and looked about the room. She saw them sitting there but was looking for someone else. The first thing she said was, “Where is he? Where is he?”
“Who, where is who?”

“Why, Brother [Lorenzo] Snow;” she replied, “he called me back.” They explained to her that Brother Snow and Brother Clawson were very busy and could not remain, and that they had gone. Ella then dropped her head back on her pillow, saying, “Why did he call me back? I was so happy and did not want to come back.”

Then Ella Jensen began to relate her marvelous experiences; marvelous both as to the incidents themselves, and as to the great number of them that occurred in the short space of time between three and four hours.

Deceased relatives and friends

“[Before I died,] I could see people from the other world and hear the most delightful music and singing that I ever heard. This singing lasted for six hours, during which time I was preparing to leave this earth, and I could hear it all through the house. At ten o’clock my spirit left my body. It took me some time to make up my mind to go, as I could hear and see the folks crying and mourning over me. It was very hard for me to leave them, but as soon as I had a glimpse of the other world I was anxious to go and all the care and worry left me.”


“I entered a large hall. It was so long that I could not see the end of it. It was filled with people. As I was conducted through the throng, the first person I recognized was my grandpa, H. P. Jensen, who was sitting in one end of the room, writing. He looked up, seemed surprised to see me and said: ‘Why! There is my granddaughter, Ella.’

He was very much pleased, greeted me and, as he continued with his writing, I passed on through the room and met a great many of my relatives and friends. It was like going along the crowded street of a large city where you meet many people, only a very few of whom you recognize.
“The next one I knew was Uncle Hans Jensen with his wife, Mary Ellen. They had two small children with them. On inquiring who they were, he told me one was his own and the other was Uncle Will’s little girl.”

“Some seemed to be in family groups. As there were only a few whom I could recognize and who knew me, I kept moving on. Some inquired about their friends and relatives on the earth. Among the number was my cousin.

He asked me how the folks were getting along and said it grieved him to hear that some of the boys were using tobacco, liquor, and many things that were injurious to them. This proved to me that the people in the other world know to a great extent what happens here on the earth.”
“The people were all dressed in white or cream, excepting Uncle Hans Jensen, who (for this occasion) had on his dark clothes and long rubber boots — the things he wore when he was drowned in the Snake River in Idaho.

Order and education in spirit world

“Everybody appeared to be perfectly happy. I was having a very pleasant visit with each one that I knew. Finally I reached the end of that long room. I opened a door and went into another room filled with children. They were all arranged in perfect order, the smallest ones first, then larger ones, according to age and size, the largest ones in the back rows all around the room. They seemed to be convened in a sort of a Primary or a Sunday School presided over by Aunt Eliza R. Snow. There were hundreds of small children there.”

Ella hears the call to return

“It was,” continued Ella, “while I was standing listening to the children singing, ‘Gladly Meeting, Kindly Greeting,’ that I heard President Lorenzo Snow call me. He said, ‘Sister Ella, you must come back, as your mission is not yet finished here on earth.’ So I just spoke to Aunt Eliza R. Snow and told her that I must go back.”

“Returning through the large room, I told the people I was going back to the earth, but they seemed to want me to stay with them. I obeyed the call, although it was very much against my desire, as such perfect peace and happiness prevailed there — no suffering and no sorrow. I was so taken up with all I saw and heard that I did hate very much to leave that beautiful place.”

“[The memory of] this [place] has always been a source of comfort to me. I learned by this experience that we should not grieve too much for our departed loved ones, and especially at the time they leave us. I think we should be just as calm and quiet as possible, because, as I was leaving my mortal life, the only regret I had was that the folks were grieving so much for me. But I soon forgot all about this world in my delight with the other.”

Pain of returning to life

Ella frequently told of the terrible suffering that she experienced when the spirit again entered the body. There was practically no pain on leaving the body in death, but the intense pain was almost unbearable in coming back to life. Not only this, but for months, and even years afterward, she experienced new aches and pains and physical disorders that she had never known before.

Experience verified to others

Some of the people Ella described as having met in this spirit sojourn were her aunts and second cousins, long since dead and laid away before she was born. She told her Aunt Harriet, who had lost two daughters, not to mourn them, for she had seen them and had talked with them, and they were very happy in their new sphere of existence.
Many relatives and others visited Ella, and she told them the same story — of how she had met their relatives and friends over there, how happy they were, and that they had asked about their loved ones here.

When Leah Rees came to stay with Ella the night after her return, she told her about having seen her own Grandpa Jensen, Leah’s father and several others of her people who had passed away — all of whom appeared very happy.

Experience verified to Alphonzo Snow

My wife, Minnie, and I heard of Ella Jensen’s death and restoration to life and called at her home to see her. As we entered the room she said: “Oh! Come here, Alphonzo and Minnie, I have something to tell you. After my return to earth I told my parents of some of the remarkable experiences which I had while in the spirit world. But there was one experience that seemed very strange, and I could not understand it.

“You know, your little son Alphie has been in my Sunday school class in the First Ward. I have always loved him very much. While I was in Aunt Eliza R. Snow’s class of children in the spirit world, I recognized many children.

But all of them had died excepting one, and this was little Alphie. I could not understand how he should be among them and still be living. When I told this to mother, she said: ‘Yes, Ella, little Alphie is dead, too. He died early this morning while you were so very sick. We knew you loved him and that it would be a shock to you, so we did not tell you about his death.’”

It was very consoling, indeed, to hear Ella tell of seeing our dear little boy and that he was very happy. She said it was not right for us to grieve and mourn so much for him and that he would be happier if we would not do so.

Experience verified to Ella’s mother

“While in this large building in the spirit world, I met a woman who greeted me and said she was Aunt Mary and told me that she died while I was a baby.”

The mother asked: “Can you describe her?”

The answer was: “Yes, she was a tall woman with black hair and dark eyes and thin features.”

“Yes,” the mother answered, “surely you have described your Aunt Mary.”

“I also met another woman there, who said she was my Aunt Sarah and had died just before I was born.”

“Will you describe her?” the mother asked.

“Yes, she was rather short and somewhat fleshy, with round features, light hair and blue eyes.”
“Why, yes, Ella, that is your Aunt Sarah. You have described her perfectly.”

(Unsurprisingly, Ella’s testimony of the spirit world remained strong throughout the rest of her life).

A MEAL TO REMEMBER

We’ve all had some great meals; ones we remember for years. The Admiral’s Mess on board an aircraft carrier was one of my favorites. Perhaps yours involves a special restaurant or maybe a traditional family meal, however, we also remember those meals that were special because of their lack of appeal. The following story, related by a returning military member after serving for six months in Iraq illustrates this point.

“We were invited to a meal with the Iraqi military as a gesture of good will. Since we were in a combat zone, my men and I did not expect anything fancy but we were not prepared for the disgusting circumstances of this singular event and hope to never repeat it.

As we entered the dismal room, we saw long, filthy picnic tables, placed end to end to accommodate many people. Flies and maggots crowded the room, along with the smell of rotting food. We had to push garbage and refuse aside, just to have a place to sit down. The table top was covered with so much matter and debris, that it looked more like a garbage dump than an eating table.

All at once, a cook came by with a large bowl and a big spoon and began to plop a rice and bean food directly onto the table in front of each person. He brought no plates, no glasses, and no eating utensils. As the goo was placed in front of each Iraqi, they would put their filthy hands into the gruel and shove it in their mouths. Their bowels must have long since been accustomed to such drivel or they could have not endured it.

My team included experienced, battle-seasoned veterans, but even they were sickened by the sight. Water was poured into a large bowl and when those eating got thirsty, they just passed the bowl around, drinking from the same container. Such are the customs of the country we are assisting in this war. We tried to be polite and excused ourselves.

The Iraqi’s treated their wives as if they were trash and were only good for child bearing and nothing else. Little girls were told to stay with their mothers while little boys were taught to carry toy guns and hate their enemies. The Iraqi men were blatantly homosexual and made obvious gestures to one another. It was one of the most degrading encounters I have ever witnessed.

It is sad for me to report that that I have little, if any respect for their country or their people. I am immensely grateful to be home at last. The average American has no idea of how blessed we are to live in the land of the free.”

MICHAEL

On a dark and dismal day, his filthy body clothed in rags, he was pushed to the feet of the local magistrate. Tired and lonely, only about 20 years old, he was ready to die. Cold rain pelted his thin frame.

“What is the charge?” said the magistrate. “He has stolen bread and is guilty of death!” shouted his accuser. He was one of a nameless horde of hungry, starving, and poverty stricken souls.

As they spoke, the king’s finely dressed daughter happened by, her body guards closely following. Perhaps, because it was another dreary day full of mundane purchases at the market or maybe it was the human suffering she saw daily as she walked these familiar streets, nevertheless, in this instance she stopped and interrupted the accusation.

“Are you guilty?” she asked the accused. “My lady, he is nothing more than a common…”

“Did I ask you?” she curtly spoke to the magistrate. “Let him speak for himself. Are you guilty?” she repeated.

The accused, who had been staring with his head toward the mud, dared not look up to her. It was almost a cry when he answered, “I am, my lady.”

The king’s daughter felt the pathetic confession of his guilt and asked further. “Why did you take the bread? Did you not know the penalty for stealing?

“I was hungry my lady, I had not eaten for days,” he explained, still gazing at the ground.
I see this every day, she thought. I can do but little, but I can do something.

“I need another servant. Release him! “ she commanded and so he was set free to serve the king’s daughter and trudged off bewildered, under the watchful eye of the body guards.

They had gone but a little way when she stopped and asked him, “Who are you?”

“I am nothing,” he said, his eyes still looking downward.

“Nonsense!” she responded. “Look at me. Who are you?” she repeated.

His gaze met her and he saw the most beautiful face he had ever seen. “I am the son of a potato farmer,” and he cast his eyes to the earth again.

“Where is your family, your parents, your brothers, your sisters?”

“Dead,” was his solitary reply.

His answer did not really shock her. There were so much of broken dreams and families in this troubled land, but still, his words, ringing with emptiness pierced her soul. She had never acquired a servant before. They had always been chosen by others.

This combined with the circumstances of his falling into her keeping gave a special significance to his situation. “What is your name?”

“Michael.”

To say that his life was forever changed after that day would be the grossest of understatements. He was taught how to bathe and keep himself outwardly clean and was given fresh, new clothing.

Michael was further schooled in the many duties of the palace servants, but instead of learning one servant task and being assigned only there, he was given a new assignment each month, tending the horses, religious instruction, household tasks, grooming the courtyard and many other duties, so that he grew in wisdom and knowledge as the days passed.

He seldom saw the king’s daughter, whose name was Katherine, but now and then he would catch glimpses of her going here or there and she would always smile at him.

The memory of that smiling face, so kind looking, so empathetic would sustain him for weeks.
By and by, as he proved himself a quick and able student, he was given instruction in self defense by the body guards.

After being schooled for over a year in various manners and courtesies of a house servant, he began to grow in confidence and knew many of the names of the other servants, and their backgrounds, having worked with many of them.

He became a very happy and loyal servant, uplifting those around him, was trusted with additional responsibility, until they often sought his company when problems arose.

Unfortunately, after two years of dedicated servitude, enemies attacked the kingdom and eventually the king’s palace.

Michael organized a defense of the palace and along with the king’s body guards, was able to successfully defend the palace, the king and his daughter. Michael was wounded in the exchange, but recovered.

The king was so grateful to Michael and having no sons, gave the kingdom and his daughter, Katherine, to him as his wife.

We could say that they all lived happily ever after but wouldn’t it be better to say that there is a little of Michael in all of us?

BEING A GRAMPA…AGAIN

We have 16 grandkids, with perhaps more on the way. The first few were novelties, if I dare would call them that, for to Grandma, they’re all darlings. I’d like to call them all that, however, they are like me, they have their moments when things get a little grumpy.

Then came the day, over two years ago last June, when one of our grandkids and her mother and her mother’s cat, came to live with us. Our lifestyle would never be the same.

Money formerly spent for a new computer or an extra house payment or a better car was now going for baby clothes, special types of food, disposable diapers, playpens, baby swings, cat food, cat litter and on and on, with no end in sight. Still, with all the expense, there are some pluses. I am remembering what it was like when our own kids were young and we were young parents.

We have passed through up all night screaming, to teething, to countless diaper changes, to sitting up, to first steps, to learning to behave in Church, to potty training, to doctor’s visits, to exhaustion by day’s end. Just the usual, run of the mill parenting challenges that old guys like me don’t usually face. Yet, with all of this and more, these are the easy days. What about her first day of school? Learning unacceptable behavior from classmates? The wonders of adolescence; and, heaven help us, the teenage years?

Our youngest granddaughter, Makayla, (or Kayla or Kay for short) is two years and four months old and follows us around the house, saying “why” to everything and putting together words that come out like real sentences, such as: “Where going, Papa? What doing? Papa, wait! Water please. Cookie please. Pizza please.” Her latest when she gets what she wants is, “Tank you…cool!

Our TV room is cluttered with endless boxes of toys. She follows her mother around like they were glued at the hip. She puts up with Grampa and adores Grandma and has her very own time out seat for when her behavior is less than expected. She travels with us to the store in her second car seat, she grew out of the first, and knows very well what McDonald’s and fries are.

Kay knows the name of her cousins too and aunts and uncles and after batting her long eyelashes, she can melt your heart. I can’t stay irritated at her for long and have learned a couple very important lessons from her examples. Since her memory is short, and she holds no grudges, she spends much of her day forgiving others and singing to herself, like we should do.