That They Might Have Joy

In the novel Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens, there is an interesting story told by a man to a group that was waiting in a house after their coach had an accident. The story, titled “Five Sisters of York” describes five sisters in the fifteenth century of whom “the fame of their great beauty had spread through all the country round.” The youngest had a heart that “bounded with joy and gladness. Devoted attachment to her sisters, and a fervent love of all beautiful things in nature, were its pure affections. Her gleesome voice and merry laugh were the sweetest music of their home. She was its very light and life.” They lived near some monks of St. Benedict, and one day one of those monks came to visit them. He found the sisters outside enjoying time together. “The noise of soft voices in conversation, and of merry laughter, fell upon his ears ere he had advanced many paces; and raising his eyes higher than was his humble wont, he descried, at no great distance, the five sisters seated on the grass, with Alice in the centre: all busily plying their customary task of embroidering.” The youngest, Alice, remarked, “What joy and cheerfulness it wakes up within us, to see all nature beaming in brightness and sunshine, father.” But he scolded them for wasting time there: “Still wasting the precious hours, still wasting the precious hours on this vain trifling. Alas, alas! that the few bubbles on the surface of eternity—all that Heaven wills we should see of that dark deep stream—should be so lightly scattered!” The oldest sister described the prayers and daily alms they had already attended to, but he still criticized their work of embroidery: “See here, an intricate winding of gaudy colours, without purpose or object, unless it be that one day it is destined for some vain ornament, to minister to the pride of your frail and giddy sex. Day after day has been employed upon this senseless task, and yet it is not half accomplished. The shade of each departed day falls upon our graves, and the worm exults as he beholds it, to know that we are hastening thither. Daughters, is there no better way to pass the fleeting hours?”

In the midst of this criticism, Alice defended their time spent joyfully together in this way by appealing to their deceased mother. She related, “Our dear mother, was living when these long tasks began, and bade us, when she should be no more, ply them in all discretion and cheerfulness, in our leisure hours; she said that if in harmless mirth and maidenly pursuits we passed those hours together, they would prove the happiest and most peaceful of our lives, and that if, in later times, we went forth into the world, and mingled with its cares and trials—if, allured by its temptations and dazzled by its glitter, we ever forgot that love and duty which should bind, in holy ties, the children of one loved parent—a glance at the old work of our common girlhood would awaken good thoughts of bygone days, and soften our hearts to affection and love.” In other words, their time was not wasted as they spent the hours joyfully together because those days of joy would help them later in life when the trials and difficulties came. Their mother knew that if they could find happiness together in their youth, even in an activity that seemed frivolous to a dreary priest, it would be a foundational time to help them be united and give them strength to face the challenges of mortality.   

Being one who sees life sometimes like the priest—often measuring activities strictly by what is accomplished in the moment—this story struck me as containing an important idea about the importance of family time (what the Family Proclamation would call “wholesome recreational activities”) to bind us together in joy and good memories. Life is not just about what boxes of accomplishment we can check off each day but also about the relationships of love we can create. As the Prophet Joseph Smith taught, “And that same sociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with eternal glory, which glory we do not now enjoy” (Doctrine and Covenants 130:2). Certainly life was not meant to be only play, but there is value in activities done as families and friends that bind us in love and happiness.

The Savior clearly understood that as Mark described: “And it came to pass, that, as Jesus sat at meat in his house, many publicans and sinners sat also together with Jesus and his disciples: for there were many, and they followed him.” He “sat at meat” in the house of sinners, clearly spending time in a relaxed state with them in a meal. But it was not wasted time or wrong; it was part of showing love and building a relationship and helping them come unto to Him. The account continues, “And when the scribes and Pharisees saw him eat with publicans and sinners, they said unto his disciples, How is it that he eateth and drinketh with publicans and sinners?” (Mark 2:15-16) The scribes and Pharisees saw His actions as sinful because of His company and seemingly frivolous actions, but His actions show that there is value in spending time in enjoyment and friendship together. As Lehi famously put it, “Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy” (2 Nephi 2:25). We shouldn’t fill all our time with entertainment or seek only that which is fun, but certainly joy comes as we spend quality time together with loved ones like these five sisters. And those joyful moments will help us overcome challenges that come later because of the bonds we have forged together.

In the story the priest urges them to become nuns. But Alice cries out to her sister these compelling words, “Never, sisters, barter not the light and air of heaven, and the freshness of earth and all the beautiful things which breathe upon it, for the cold cloister and the cell. Nature’s own blessings are the proper goods of life, and we may share them sinlessly together. To die is our heavy portion, but, oh, let us die with life about us; when our cold hearts cease to beat, let warm hearts be beating near; let our last look be upon the bounds which God has set to his own bright skies, and not on stone walls and bars of iron! Dear sisters, let us live and die, if you list, in this green garden’s compass; only shun the gloom and sadness of a cloister, and we shall be happy.” Eventually the girls faced great challenges and Alice died, and the priest came back to the four mourning sisters and urged them again to come to the convent. The story continues, “And could they, remembering how her young heart had sickened at the thought of cloistered walls, look upon her grave, in garbs which would chill the very ashes within it? Could they bow down in prayer, and when all Heaven turned to hear them, bring the dark shade of sadness on one angel’s face? No. They sent abroad, to artists of great celebrity in those times, and having obtained the church’s sanction to their work of piety, caused to be executed, in five large compartments of richly stained glass, a faithful copy of their old embroidery work. These were fitted into a large window until that time bare of ornament; and when the sun shone brightly, as she had so well loved to see it, the familiar patterns were reflected in their original colours, and throwing a stream of brilliant light upon the pavement, fell warmly on the name of Alice. For many hours in every day, the sisters paced slowly up and down the nave, or knelt by the side of the flat broad stone.” Instead of joining the dreary walls of a convent, they took those joyful embroideries (which they had “wasted” time on) and turned them into beautiful stained-glass windows in the church. Their youthful enjoyment indeed provided strength and joy later and did not turn them away from God but rather to Him, bounding their hearts together. This tale is a reminder that the Lord created the earth for us to find joy therein and to prepare ourselves for “the enjoyment of [our] eternal felicity” some day with Him and those we love.