Mary Webster

Saturday, April 17, 2010 ~ There is a funeral starting as I type these words and while I am not there physically, my heart is. This post may take a few days to write. How do you sum up your relationship with someone who has touched your life so profoundly? And the thing is, I know that I was not an isolated case. I know the chapel will be filled and so many more like me who can not be there.

Mary and Wayne Webster are second generation orchardist in the Hood River Valley where I grew up. The Webster family and orchards have been foundational in the development of our small town. If there was such a thing as rural royalty, they would have been it for the valley. As a kid, I thought they could be royalty because of their financial standing. As I grew older and saw their example, I understood they were royalty because of their character.

My first memories are of Brother Webster as the Bishop of our ward. My first memories of tithing settlement are with him. I think my testimony of tithing first started with the good feelings I had after our family met with him.

I became more aware of Sister Webster as I grew older. There was a time with things were financially tough for my family and the church helped us out with food. My mom would let them know what we were in need of and an order would be placed. The problem was that sometimes not everything would come. I remember once the order came and while the peanut butter arrived, the bread did not. Mary showed up a bit later with shopping bags filled with bread and a bunch of fresh produce.

With 6 kids and many a health problems, my mom was not the most organized of housekeepers. And she liked to sew and had a great weakness for fabric. Sister Webster saw a need and talked to my mom. For the next few months she and another sister from church came once a week for 3-4 hours and helped my mom wash, catalog and organize all of her fabric. When they were done, my mom had a 3" binder with bits of fabric stapled to the pages listing the yardage and what box it was in and there were 67 apple boxes of fabric sitting on new shelves. I really can't explain what that service meant or how she endeared herself to our family. In her quiet way and with her cheerful smile, she never judged my mom, but she truly inspired her to do better, to be better. My mom would work extra hard on cleaning the house the night before the "sisters" were coming. She taught my mom, but she also taught us girls even though we were never there (they would come while we were at school.) Each of us have our own fabric and things organized much the way Mary taught my mom.

A few months after they finished the fabric organization, our home caught on fire (the dryer had an electrical short.) It was an extraordinarily hot fire that melted the appliances. The smoke and water damage were severe and most of the house was lost. A day or two after the fire, Bro. Webster called my dad and asked him to stop by the house, that he had some clothes to give him for us. My dad stopped by expecting a bag of clothes by the door. Instead, Bro. Webster took him into his bedroom and opened his closet and told him to pick some suits. In the end, my dad left with more than one suit, his size, straight from Bro. Webster's closet.

In the weeks following the fire, a mammoth mountain of charred remains grew in our front yard as we emptied the house to begin reconstruction. I know that my parents were beginning to worry about how we were going to afford the bill to the dump to get rid of it and how many trips/Saturdays it was going to take. Then one day, it was gone. The Websters had brought in a dump truck and their own orchard work crews and spent the day taking care of it. Not only did they pay for the truck and the dump bill, they paid their workers' wages even though they were not working in the orchard. A bit later, that same crew was paid to sheet rock our house. We moved in that evening. Looking back, I honestly do not know how we would have made it through that time without the Websters. They were angels and the gratitude I feel still makes tears trickle down my cheeks 24 years later.

Over the years, the Websters annually arranged (and I believe sometimes funded) for the performing groups from BYU or Ricks College to come to our little tiny town. Lamanite Generation, Ballroom, Young Ambassadors, Folk Dancers, Showtime Company, and all the choirs came over the years and everyone from miles around came. I was a senior in high school when Showtime Co. came and I LOVED it. I cried when they left and that day walked into the guidance office at school to figure out how to go to college. I spent the next few nights writing essays for every scholarship. I called Mary Webster for tips on how to get to Ricks as her son Scott was a year ahead of me at school and he was there. Four months later, I was a freshman at Ricks College. I applied for the crew and made the cast for Showtime Company. Over the next two years I traveled all over the British Isles and the US with that company. A huge, huge blessing in my life that started from their selfless efforts.

As a single adult, I got a call from Mary one day asking me if I would be in a melodrama for the next ward activity. She was in charge of the Ward activities at the time and they were AMAZING. She figured out ways to involved every. single. person. in the ward. I especially remember the New Year's Eve dance that she organized. It was a night in Paris - complete with a city scape, the Eiffel tower, flower shops, sidewalk cafes, and street lamps. We worked for days setting it up and I had so much fun. I couldn't believe the work and detail she put into every little thing.

More than just their example and service, Mary and Wayne Webster have deeply influenced my life. He was the Patriarch who gave me my blessing. I was the second blessing he gave - his son was first. I know that they helped financially so that I could serve a mission. When I was married in the temple, they paid their orchard crews to landscape their already beautiful yard and hosted our wedding reception.  They attended my mom's funeral and a few months later, their son shared this story at Wayne's funeral. He said that as he was helping his dad into the car after my mom's grave side service that his dad said that he didn't know how much longer he wanted to be around. All of his friends were passing on. I was so stunned to hear that. That he considered us, my parents, our family his friends. Even though we were such different economic circles, we were not a service project to them. We were dear friends.

Mary passed way this past week.  I am so happy for her. She and Wayne are together again and I know that my mom will so happy to see them. I am crying, but they are happy tears. My dad heard the news yesterday and changed his plans to drive 4 hours one way to attend the funeral on behalf of our family. I so wish that I could go home today. To be at the funeral. To pay my very deepest respect to an amazing woman. To mourn with her 8 children and 32 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren. Biologically, we are not related, but I love her as deeply as a mother, sister, and dear friend. Instead, I record my experiences with her and publicly thank her for everything she did for me and my family. Next to my family, the Websters have had the most profound effect on my life. So many things that I hope to be were first shown to me by her example. Literally.

Goodbye sweet Sister. Until we meet again, God be with you~

Here is a link to the tribute her family wrote on their business blog - The Fruit Company