--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 11 number: 5 published: 1908-03 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations, "A Tribute to Margaret Hull," *Improvement Era* 11, no. 5 (March 1908): 364–368.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1105unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1105unse start_page: 364 end_page: 368 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1908-03) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1105unse publication_year: 1908 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1908, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # A Tribute to Margaret Hull A TRIBUTE TO MARGARET HULL. BY SUSA YOUNG GATES, By the death, Nov. 12, 1907, of Sister Margaret Craig Hull, the Church lost one of its most loyal workers. She was born March 13, 1852, in Edinburgh, Scotland, of goodly parents, George Swan and Agnes Mcdonald, who had joined the Church ten years before her birth. In May, 1863, her mother and six children, of whom Margaret was the third, sailed from Liverpool for Utah in the ship Antarctic. Crossing the plains with ox teams, and walking many miles of the way, the good mother and her band of little ones, the oldest, Douglas, only fourteen years of age, arrived in Salt Lake City on September 25, 1863. Her husband reached the valley in 1864, having remained in England as a missionary. After their arrival in Utah, Margaret's life was not greatly different from that of other girls of the time. They were early days and she passed through many of the hardships incident thereto. She was always a faithful worker in the wards MARGARET HULL A TRIBUTE TO MARGARET HULL. 36r, in which she resided. Shortly after arriving in the valley the family located in the Fifteenth Ward and Margaret remained a member of that ward until 1904, or about thirty-nine years, during all of which time, as girl, young woman, wife, and mother, she was a zealous worker in all departments of the ward work. In 1877, April 28, she was married to Thomas Hull, a member of the General Board Y. M. M. I. A. and formerly General Secretary, by President, then Apostle, Joseph F. Smith, at his residence, the Endowment House being closed; and later, in December of the same year; they were sealed, the house having been reopened, thif; ceremony also being performed by President Joseph F. Smith. Sister Hull has been best known for her beautiful voice. She inherited the song talent from her mother, who possessed a voice of remarkable beauty. During all the years of her life. Sister Hull used the rich gift with which she was endowed for the blessing, comfort, and benefit of the Saints. She sang for many years in the Fifteenth ward choir, which for a long time enjoyed the reputation of being the best ward choir in the Church. She was also a member of the Tabernacle choir, singing under Conductors Sands, Thomas, Careless, Beesley and Stephens. They may be numbered by thousands who have been made to rejoice by her song. She excelled in sacred music, and was ever ready to respond to every call made upon her, and at no time did she ever accept money for her service. Years ago. President Joseph F. Smith made her the promise that, so long as she used her gift for the service of the Lord and the blessing of the Saints, her voice should never lose its beauty, and this was certainly fulfilled, for up to the time that she was taken sick with the illness which terminated fatally, her voice retained its power and richness. When the Salt Lake Temple was dedicated she was chosen as one of the workers, and remained a faithful worker until her death, and sang in the Temple choir up to the last few years of her service in that sacred house. She was also an active worker in the Salt Lake stake Relief Society Board, and when the stake was divided she was chosen as stake treasurer of the Relief Societies of Ensign stake, which position she also occupied until the end of her life. As daughter, she was ever faithful and obedient . As wife. 366 IMPRO VEMENT ERA . devoted, pure, loving and true, a helpmeet in every sense of the term. As mother, self-sacrificing, tender, kind and wise. As friend, loyal and brave. As a Latter-day Saint, ever faithful and valiant, courageous and exemplary. She was ever ready to respond to the call of the sufferer or the needy. None were too lowly for her loving ministrations. She has brought joy to many a weary heart, and peace to many a sorrowing one. A very dear friend, writing from Mexico to her family, says: God only knows what she has been to me in the past. She came into my life when it was filled with sorrow and gloom: when it seemed that I had lived in vain. She came as an inspiration. She taught me confidence in myself, hope for the future. She was a friend so near, so dear, so true, that I could trust her as I would my own soul. There was but one Maggie, there in but one Maggie; and she is gone, for a season; only one more bright face to meet us when our time shall come ; one more sweet voice to welcome us back to that home where there is neither death nor parting. Another loved friend and associate of early days now dwelling in a foreign land writes of her : My Maggie, too! ever since she came into my life like a sunbeam to bless and brighten shadowy days. In all the years of closest friendship there was no jar. Ever has she been, aye, and ever must she be, deep in my heart, treasured beyond price, " ■ These are the testimonies of those who knew her well; and such is the testimony of all with whom she came in close contact. Truly such a one can ill be spared from our lives on earth, truly her reward is sure. God bless her memory! From the two friends whose testimony is here quoted came the following tributes in verse : MY LAST TRIBUTE TO MAGGIE. 0, Memory, lead me along with thee, To the city whose summers were rife Let me cling to your quiet hand, with bloom, As down through the shadowy past we Back to the grassy "Street, glide, Was there ever a shade, was there Back to the vanished years, ever a gloom, That silently gather on either side On the dawn of those days so sweet? Some smiling, some in tears. ack to the land of the loving 1: Back to the homes of yore; Has silently hidden away, 0, Memory, thanks that your quiet Back to the land of the loving heart, hand A TRIBUTE TO MARGARET HULL. 367 All but the summer's warmth and song, All but the cloudless sky, That only the love that was pure and strong Could live as the years went by. What said the letter that came today? ' 'Maggie, my Maggie is gone. ' ' This pitiful cry from a broken heart, From a home that had lost its light, Yet Maggie with smiling lips is here, As she sings to my soul tonight. Here in the land of the Long Ago, Here in the dear old home ; A beautiful presence, fair and bright, Here in her girlhood grace ; Just as she entered my lonely life And claimed in my heart a place. I listen again to that glorious voice, That could lift the clouds of care; That could bring back hope to the doubting heart. Could soothe the saddest hour; That could lift from my soul the heaviest cross That could iionquer the tempter's power. Uh hearts that are heavy with pain tonight. lair, voice of Oh eyes that are dimmed with grief I You see but the desolate, darkened home. Ye cling to the vacant chair, But listen, 0, listen! that v( hers: She sings! she is singing there. There with the loved ones gone before, Who answered the Master's call, And are gathered back to our heavenly home. Back to the mansions fair: Who were watching, and waiting with outstretched arms, — Our Maggie was wanted there. How many have gone from our dear old choir, And are waiting for us to come ; They whisper earthward each wellknown name. Our leader has answered the call. Perhaps he missed from their "Welcome home!" The sweetest voice of all. Not many days may I tarry here. When my pilgrimage is done. When I hear the call that our loved ones heard. The call that will set me free, I will rest in their loving arms at last, And Maggie will sing to me. Belle M. Johnson. MAGGIE. Weave, fond Memory, weave thy mantle In soft colors rich and rare. Weave thy mystic, shimmering mantle, Light and shadow blending there. Skillful hands the shuttle plying, Rare designs grow into life; Fragrant flowers and rich fruits springing From the soil of pain and strife. Flowers that grow by dusty highways. Crushed, yet blooming, fragrant still. By meadow brook and shady byways And in the home nook's window-sill. Threads of silver, threads of gold Trace the names of those who met In the pleasant days of old. Days we never can forget ; 368 IMPRO VEMENT ERA . Met at music's sacred shrine, Zion's own dear songs to sing, Songs and anthems all divine. How their harmonies live and cling, As the perfume of the flower, 'Round the broken, shattered vase! This is memory's blessed dower. And its tribute here I place. Oh, wond'rous webb of heart-throbs woven, In somber hue and tints most fair, With loving hands I gently drape it 'Round her own, dear "Old Arm Chair." Place just here this bunch of roses, — Maggie's roses, bright and sweet, Where faith and hope and love reposes, And lay all at our Savior's feet. I seem to hear her dear voice singing Those songs of the heart so soft and low. Scenes in the gloaming to me bringing As now the sweet strains ebb and flow. Again on my knee her head is resting, Again her arms around me twine. Soul speaks to soul, in the hour of testing. Maggie, dear Maggie, the victory's thine. Sarah E. Russell.