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Generations of Beekeeping

I am Prenten Frazier. Many people in the area know my Father Boydean Frazier for his Alpine Honey. Beekeeping has been in my family for generations and today we have fifteen hundred bee hives in apiaries around Utah. An apiary is a yard where honey bees are kept. Beekeeping is man's oldest hobby and has been around since the beginning. Of course beekeeping has changed tremendously in the last 150 years thanks to the invention of modern techniques and wares. At the present I would be unable to trace my beekeeping heritage beyond 5 generations but I truly believe that because of the commercial revolution surrounding the newly invented Langstroth hive, grandpa Benji most likely took the opportunity to teach himself.

(Prenten Frazier)

I am learning more about my ancestor Benjamin F. Johnson who was born July 28, 1818 in Pomfret, NY. He knew what it meant to take an opportunity to make money. He knew how to work hard. I believe largely this was due to the fact he was no stranger to the gates of death due to hardships and physical discomfort. Humble and soft spoken, he defined industry by the truest definition of the word. Benjamin's first love Melissa bore him a good set of daughters. His second daughter Julia, named after his beloved sister, was born in the fall of 1845 well before beekeeping was a real thing for Grandpa Benji.

The modern beehive box was invented in 1851 by Lorenzo Langstroth. It allowed for honey harvesting, maintenance and large scale beekeeping to stretch far beyond what the traditional wicker skep was capable of. Within ten years the popularity of the Langstroth hive had completely revolutionized the industry. I don’t fully believe Grandpa Benji was the first in our line of ancestor to keep bees but he certainly would have been the first to do so using the modern bee box as we know it today and on such a large scale. I believe his love and interest in honeybees came from a couple brief experiences with honey during his youth. Being a very tender hearted young man his disposition was more that of a soft hearted boy than a man. He was without guile and possessed an incorruptible nature of honesty and integrity.

(James Newell extracting honey)

Nevertheless, the kind and sweet things of this earth often eluded him. Once around age 20, and while on a military raid with other young men under his commander, Benjamin found a beehive. Hungry and much in need of food, he took from it some beautiful light honey comb in the half shell of a small hollow pumpkin and ate on until he could eat no more. Why a pumpkin? Well seeing as there was little food were likely talking about a gourd which had been eaten out and naturally hardened into a makeshift bowl thing; likely just lying on the ground in the field near the beehive? At any rate, what is significant about this moment in his life is that after consuming a few bites of honey and desiring more but, being unable to eat more at the moment, left the remainder on a stump. This was a memorable decision that, many times, entered his thoughts through the remainder of his life. The impact of course originated from the incredibly high caloric value of the honey that renewed his strength accompanied by a fresh nature that gives joy to the heart much rejoicing to the body. What he did not know was that his body was trying to absorb it as fast as it could, hence the desire to eat more, while creating a feeling that he should stop lest he should eat too much and puke.

Proverbs 25:16 Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is sufficient for thee, lest thou be filled therewith, and vomit it.

Honey packs about 64 calories per tablespoon. Aside from the recommended daily dose of modern nutritionists (which I find to be humorously lacking in wisdom and truth) Consuming too much honey can cause the body to say “whoa hold it for a minute while we catch up”. Yes, even too much of a good thing can be harmful. No doubt this honey could have provided sustenance for several days had he but maintained the wits to keep hold of it. Hence the regret. Not to mention the coming days would prove to be incredibly difficult for Benjamin.

Shortly thereafter, after escaping custody under hair raising prospects, He narrowly survived a freezing trek through blizzard nearly costing him his life for want of food and warmth. Revitalized by an unlikely brush fire he miraculously made it to his sister Julia's little log hut. Three days later he had to set off again for fear of the mobcrats who would be now searching for him. His sister Julia gave him a few provisions such as corn bread and beef but it was especially the pint of honey which she had somehow procured that gave Benjamin much joy. To me this gift indicated the incredible love his sister had for him. To part with a precious little pint of honey at that time would have been a large sacrifice. To him this was most appreciated and the thought of it with his bread and beef seemed so good to his young appetite that he thought of it often while plodding his way over a trackless prairie. Arriving at length to a log near a brook he sat down to eat. While there, uncontrollable sobs of disappointment and forlornness would overtake him as he discovered that the honey was not there but had been left behind.

(David Sr and Julia's Family) Benjamin F. Johnson is historically known for being in the saddle and leather work trade. It wasn’t his love but it was one of many opportunities he took during his long life to make money, something for which he had a great knack. He should be known for having done EVERYTHING but history is often narrow sighted. His plantations and orchards and his later years proved his true love was in fruit and bees. In 1883 Grandpa Benji, now 65 years old, and after having procured 160 acres in Salt Creek Arizona, would finally realize his love for bees by ordering nearly 100 bee colonies from California at $4 a pop. After arrival by wagon, nearly 3/4ths were broken and smothered. Today with modern disease this would have been rather difficult to recover from but with care and work they had recovered their losses by the following June by making many divides. By the summer of 1885 they had multiplied into hundreds of swarms promising great return on the going rate of honey.

Benjamin loved beekeeping and didn’t mind a few bee stings for his great love for honey and doing business. Grandpa Benjamin didn’t only keep bees, he also had a lot of land, orchards and a fruit Nursery. He owned one of the most prosperous plantations in the area at the time and always provided for his wives and nearly 50 children.

After financially devastating persecution for his practice of polygamy (a practice that was highly controversial, but not illegal at the time) he emerged old, and near penniless from hiding, finally exonerated of any crimes before a judge.

The same year, he made back over a thousand dollars in jewelry by trading honeybee. That was a ton of money in the late 1800’s. He organized a cart of honey and vegetables to Chicago and other cities and did lots of mercantile business with his sons. He became president of B.F Johnson and Sons, Inc. earning himself a comfortable life in Arizona.

26 April, 1888 he wrote “ work in my two apiaries of about 200 colonies. Yesterday I had an unpleasant experience. In fixing my hives, many of them being blown down by wind, the bees got in a rampage and I‘ve been severely stung.”

His daughter Julia was born September 1845. She was described by her son and my great grandfather George Benjamin Wilson (Ben), in a letter dated February 4, 1960:

“Julia Didamia Johnson lost her mother Melissa when she was 15 years old. Julia was outstanding as a fine young woman and as a mother there was none better. They went all out to give their children a good education. For song and music, they bought a Hammond organ and paid for lessons for Aunt Mary Ellen (Mazie).

(George Benjamin Wilson & Susie)

Julia loved all that was virtuous, lovely, praiseworthy; she learned to paint beautiful flowers & play the harmonica. After she was 50 she loved her cow, her chickens, especially the biddies. Her husband David called her “Jewelry” instead of Julia, because she loved her gold jewelry; watch, finger rings and earrings.

She had 9 girls and said she liked girls better than boys because boys got into too much mischief.” Julia's two sons, however, would be the men to inherit the bee business. Julia is a Greek name derived from the mythical Roman God Jupiter.

~Legend has it that the queen honey bee ascended Mt. Jupiter with a gift of honey & presented her daughter's creation. In turn Jupiter granted the queen whatsoever thing her heart desired. In reply, the queen wished for a stinger so that her daughters could defend their honey from intruders. Caught with guile and in dismay, Jupiter granted the request but, because Jupiter knew of the vital relationship between man and bee, made it so that the bee could use it, only in doing so would bring about her own death. ~

Julia's oldest son David Jr. was born 1869 two years after they were married. When David was 11, and on August 27, 1880 there finally arrived little brother Ben (my great grandfather) that he prayed for. Ben (George Benjamin Wilson) was 2 years old when they moved to Mesa, Arizona where his father David, undoubtedly helped his father-in-law Benjamin F. Johnson (Grandpa Benji) with his bees. Ben recalls, “I loved to go to the field on the wagon. Dad quite often took us kids and we ate our lunch out there. Whenever he was working with the bees he’d bring a frame of honeycomb to eat with our lunch.”

The family moved to Colonia Diaz, Mexico, when little Ben was 8. His older brother David Jr. (19 at the time), did the man’s work and soon became the family beekeeper taking care of the 300 hives his father had acquired. Ben was in charge of the teams of horses and that stuff. Their father was known to the local Mexicans as “Rico Wilson” for his lucrative trades in making sorghum, brooms and honey. His sorghum was so light and gently refined, folks thought it was honey. When Ben's brother David, Jr. was 25, he married Olive Merrill; “a very bright lovely girl.” They were not blessed with any offspring and it was hard for him to accept that fact. David, Jr. was a hard-working man. In the words of Ben “there was no invading enemy that was ever too big for David. He’d fight for the right and stand the scars without a whimper.” David, however, fell ill with Bright's disease and died December 25, 1901 at the young age of 32. A few years earlier their father, David Sr., got very sick with mastoid. It nearly took his life. The mastoid broke just behind his ear leaving his neck stiff for the rest of his life. When he got better though he couldn’t pay for the orchard and he wanted to go to a warmer place. In the spring of 1897 Ben, being 17, employed his cousin David Johnson with his six horses and Ben’s two single horse teams to load up the bees, their broom machine (100ft in length when assembled), grist mill they bought from Corralitos and a 4-wheeled steam engine on wagon and move to Oaxaca, Sonora, Mexico, 75 miles over the mountains west. For a few years Ben had been working hard moving, freighting, clearing land, building and doing anything to make a living. When David Jr. died Ben was in school. He really loved school and his instructor, Guy C. Wilson inspired him to a higher life and level of thinking. Ben’s health, however, was broken and his heart was irregular. He was trembling, nervous and discouraged. “Sickness” he said, “seemed to me, had come to stay. I pleaded, ‘Heavenly Father, wilt thou give me health so I can live a useful life and rear a family of boys and girls and be of service on this earth? Wilt thou please take me on, Yet thy will be done.” Ben quit school on account of his health and returned to Oaxaca to his family. “On the farm he recounts “I had plenty of exercise, vegetables, melons and whole wheat bread to eat. I could see that my health was improving and I was learning fast to be my own doctor. The Lord did prolong his life and my Grandpa George Benjamin Wilson lived to be 95. Naturally he took over and cared for his father’s bees at the time. Bees remained one source of income for Ben in later years and would follow him as a blessing the remainder of his days.

In 1911 Ben drove his father’s team and family to Hillsdale. In 1912 George (age 31) married Susan Cox, then age 25, and they moved to Orderville. In the fall of that same year he returned to Hillsdale in time to find his father dying. In 1915 young Ben had made enough money herding sheep for a few years to buy land and move to Hurricane Utah. They walked by wagon and pitched up a tent home. Suzan recalled “Our food was gone! No money! The store would not trust us because we were strangers. Jim Stansworth brought us a big bread-pan full of grapes. They lasted us three days. We found that there was a great deal of food value in them. Mother came to see us for a few days and visited her cousin, Jane Petty. When Jane’s son Carl found out we were relatives, he said, ‘Come and get anything you need out of the store. Brother Wilson can pay when he gets back to work.’'

Grandpa Ben traded a heifer for the lumber to build a room. In a month his family was living in a single-room house. Just getting started in life Benjamin would have to go back to Orderville and work the sheep from time to time to make money. Between his sheep herding, Ben worked hard over the years, clearing his little Hurricane farm, building up his honey bees, putting in an orchard, grape vineyard, alfalfa field, expanding his one-room home and building a barn. Sheep herding eventually allowed Ben to acquire his own little herd. While working he got word his wife Susan fell ill with typhoid fever and he ran 40-mile home on foot in a single day. She was awfully sick under Dr. Wilkenson’s care with Miss Russell as nurse and kind neighbors who called often. One neighbor said, ‘I prayed constantly that those little children would not lose their mother. “The fever lingered on very persistently.” said Ben. “The doctor allowed very little food, specified liquids and ordered her body be bathed all over with salt water every hour. Susie was losing weight very fast. Uncle Bennie LeBaron, the stake patriarch, came and administered to her. He told me she must have more nourishing food and suggested grape juice.”

Ben had to go on foot to the doctor and ask him if she could have some grape juice from the grapes they brought and was happy when he said yes. The grapes did her a lot of good. They also helped Ben as he had to work night and day giving Susan baths. Ben told the doctor that Susie was not getting enough rest and bathing her every hour was too much and he didn’t want to rouse her when she was asleep. The Dr. then said to bathe her only while awake. “The fever never let up” said Ben, “then one day the doctor told me we had but one source to turn to. Of course I knew what that was. In a couple of days Suzie suddenly began nearing the end. In haste Ben went to the doctor and told him Susie was in a crisis and he was needed but the Dr. said, ‘I don’t want to see her die.’ Ben hastened back and found there was Bishop Isom doing all in his power to help her. There he administered the will of the Lord by the laying on of hands and Susie finally experienced a great change for the better. “Soon...I could see that the Lord had spared her life,” Ben recalled. “She began to pick up and got the fattest I had ever seen her. She grew back a new head of hair. We got our children back from kind neighbors and Susie’s Mother came to help her regain her strength.”

During Ben’s years of herding sheep, he had accumulated a small herd of his own but had to sell them to pay the doctor bill. Ben bid farewell to sheep and his travels and never looked back. The great depression was on and there was no work to be found. It was at this time they were very grateful to have a little farm in Hurricane. “We had plenty to eat.” recalled Ben. “We raised grain, milk, honey, vegetables, plenty of fruit including grapes and some to sell. I pride myself in saying that we had the biggest variety of food of anyone around during these two depressions.” Grapes had saved his precious Suzan so of course they landed a very special place in his heart and on his farm becoming a major crop for income along with honey. Below is one of Ben’s honey labels.

My Grandma Eunice Rose Wilson was born to Ben and Suzie in 1920 on Thanksgiving night. She went by Rose which was also her aunt’s (Ben’s sister’s) name. She truly loved that name. She grew up working hard and was no stranger to long summers picking fruit for hours every day. Grandma Rose had smallpox as a child. According to her memory, her dad Ben was her nurse and had a more natural ability to care for the sick than her mother. “As long as I can remember my mother always had some project going that took her time and effort away from us kids. Some of them were: Selling grapes and honey, Drying fruit by the 100-lbs to keep from wasting, Making quilts in a neighborhood club, Inventing screen hammocks (she patented these) and screens to cover baby carriages to keep flies out, Writing plays, Studying about Indians, doing Genealogy, Trying her luck at a fruit stand (a failure), Writing Family Home Evening stories and Babies First Lesson Books, prepared vegetables and popcorn balls for her kids to sell, Made dolls and presents for the kids, helped in town to widen the roads for the safety of the kids, and Scouting with her husband Ben. She also studied the scriptures... A LOT!” Grandma Rose grew up watching the Town of Hurricane UT, (established 1896) blossom as a Rose (like herself). A wooden tithing barn west of town square was utilized as a bishop's storehouse to take tithes in the form of food crops and goods and Honey was often used to do that. Honey, along with other goods, was also used as a commodity to pay for things like “dance tickets and entertainments passing through, as well as the grocery bill.” Growing up her family had a monkey, a bear, a raven, a Gila monster, snakes, an eagle, hawks, squirrels, dogs, cats, chickens, pigs, rabbits, owls, a desert tortoise, chipmunks, lizards, hamsters, bees, pigeons, cows, horses and a wild civet cat that made its nest in a chest of drawers. My Grandma Rose married her High School sweetheart James Newel Frazier October 14, 1939. Fresh out of High school they moved home to Marysvale where Newel's father was tragically killed in his car by a passing truck just a year earlier. They had two children and took care of his mother until they had her set up in a home in town and in 1943 they moved to Hurricane UT. My father, Boydean Frazier, was born to Rose and Newel Feb 8th 1944. He too grew up in Hurricane and was a very industrious boy raising pigs and animals and winning cherry picking contests (something reminiscent of a small town).

(Boydean & Jay)

Although it has grown since Grandmother Rose’s childhood, Hurricane was still a very podunk western town. People there didn’t often take the opportunity to leave town for greater success. My father, however, inherited that same spirit of seizing opportunity and hard work which deserves credit to all of our family’s prosperity today. As a young man he can recall visiting his grandpa Ben (George Benjamin Wilson) on his farm with his cousins. Grandpa Ben loved his Grandkids and wished success upon each of them. He wanted to inspire them to work hard and my father can recall Grandpa Ben with the other grandkids out by the Beehives. Grandpa Ben would point to each of his hives and say “this one is yours, and that one is yours”. Perhaps Ben felt that by assigning a hive to each child that he might inspire them to feel special and take a more personal interest. This truly inspired my father who literally took the offer to heart. In High School Boydean would help Ben harvest honey and repair beehive boxes and frames. Ben helped him build boxes and when my dad left for college, he had several of his own hives that helped him earn college money. He could not care for them though and felt grateful to learn that Grandpa Ben had stepped in and looked after them without being asked during his leave to college at BYU, a mission to Mexico, and the army. Ben was so proud of everything his grandkids did and he was thoughtful in whatever way he could to help them succeed. He also sacrificed money he seemingly didn’t have to support missionaries. Eventually Boydean inherited all of Grandpa Ben's hives and kept them up so well that some of the other cousins would later mention that they could recall Grandpa Ben promising them one of his hives. Boydean thought that would be alright if they wished to remove a hive but said they would have to care for it themselves. None of the cousins ever did follow through with their claim though. Boydean married my Mother who is native German in January 1970. They moved North after returning from Germany and Boydean worked as a painter and tried his hand in real estate.

I was born in Provo Utah to Boydean and Vera Frazier Jan 8th 1981. I grew up in Alpine Utah in the home my parents built that same year. Growing up there were always bees in the back field of our 2-acre property. I stayed away though because of course bees had stingers. I hated the bees. Tending to the bees during the harvest was terribly uncomfortable for me. I couldn't imagine anything worse than getting stung. When it happened I would run screaming and my face would swell for days. I, of course, misunderstood the natural disposition of the gentle European Honey bee. My father would say “come closer, you're standing too far away, the mad ones always go to whoever is farthest away.” This was little comfort to me. Boydean took stings without a flinch and didn’t ever seem to swell. I don’t recall even knowing what a bee suit was. You just went out with a smoker and got in the hive. Of course that’s how Grandpa Ben did it and his father before him and so on. To make matters worse I was not permitted to quit when stung. I thought surely I would be excused once I got pinged but to my disappointment there was still work to be done. Grandpa Ben said once when he was out tending bees with his father David that he got a sting and hollered real loud. In response David said “I’m awful sorry you got stung I would much rather it had been me that got stung than you”. Grandpa David was the gentlest soul.

(David Sr. Wilson and Family 1896)

Like my Great, Great, Great Grandfather Benjamin F Johnson though, I do have good key memories of honey in my youth. I can recall the sensation of fresh cut comb in my mouth and thinking “why doesn’t it still taste like this after it goes in the jar”? Like fresh pressed apples or grapes, there is something unique about fresh spun honey. Similarly, honey has an array of delicate aromas that disappear quickly, apparently something few are truly familiar. One important memory for me as a young boy was one particular visit to the house of my friend Layne Whitely. His kind mother often prepared a little snack during play time but on this day she had prepared honey sandwiches. I could not get over the pungent odor and bitter undertone of that honey. Never before had I ever tasted honey like that. It was not very enjoyable and that flavor would remain with me for years. Eventually I noticed that many other store brands had the same characteristics of color, aroma, and flavor. This was troubling and I instinctively knew it was not right. But how do you explain this to one who doesn’t know? Of course neighbors always knew where to come for the best honey.

I was married to Rachel Vernon in 2002 and have 5 children. In 2006 my father and mother left for a mission to the Dominican Republic. During their absence my brother Roman looked after the hives. Because beekeeping is not an easily profitable business, my father kept bees as a hobby. He made the majority of his living starting from painting to contracting to apartments and eventually Storage Units.

In March of 2010 Boydean, having retired from the Storage Business, and wanting to do something to keep himself busy decided to focus on farming. Lessons from his grandfather Ben Wilson taught that farming could provide during economic disasters such as the major depression era of the 1930’s. Farm food was also generally better and farming kept old guys healthy and active longer. Just then, as though from the spirit of ancestors passed, Boydean felt attracted to the idea of large scale beekeeping.

(Boydean Frazier) Excitement and urgency led us to begin to supplement our beekeeping knowledge with commercial trade secrets acquired through a friend named Ed Brown out of Delta Utah. He was running around 350 colonies at the time and loved our help. In exchange we traveled with him to California. For weeks I absorbed every bit of mentoring I could acquire. We built up our own colonies and worked to secure our own pollination contracts with the same private almond farm owned by the Church. These were a few very long hard years for me going early and late during which time I lost my fear of stings, and learned to love everything about honeybees.

To my father’s recollection, at no time has there ever been a year without bees in his life. In a very likely sense, some of the same stock from that first batch of honey bees, shipped in by Grandpa Benjamin F. Johnson, by wagon in 1883 from California, 138 years ago are still here among us here today. He passed his beekeeping trade on to his daughter's family, and husband, David Wilson who died and left them to his son George Benjamin Wilson. Ben then cultivated and left them to My father Boydean, who returned to our commercial beekeeping roots. And now I, Prenten Frazier, work the bees with my father and today remain the sole heir of those hives All of my brothers went on to other ventures and I alone run the bee business with my father. I’m happy to say Great, Great, Great Grandpa Benji’s bees are alive and well. I feel so blessed to prosper in this great community. I know Grandpa Benji would be pleased.

(BFJ & a Wife)

Today we operate 1,500 honeybee colonies and partner with local private landowners willing to dedicate land to place our bees to forage natural flowers in exchange for honey. This helps the bees thrive and stay healthy. We harvest thousands of pounds of raw local honey each year and my exposure as a child to raw cold spun honey has led me to shun any and all practices that destroy the natural raw goodness of wholesome honey during harvest. Because market standards of “raw” have been so abused, in 2011 I coined the new term “Cold Extract Honey” to distinguish the highest standards of harvest attainable. I have come to learn that the majority of commercial harvesting and packaging techniques is the reason the honey at my friend's house tasted so terrible to me. I believe it is for this reason that so many people I run across say they don’t even like honey. After tasting my honey, they usually admit it’s not what they thought honey tasted like. I am amazed by how many people didn’t know “solid” is the most natural state of the most raw natural honey reserves. Our bees forage over 300,000 acres delivering a wide variety of honey which is part of the sophisticated flavor I am proud to produce. Pushing honey into a creamy solid state is not unlike working with chocolate and helps avoid a gritty texture. Thanks to modern science research, we now know so many more health and medicinal benefits than our ancestors. Honey is truly nature's most valuable superfood. I hate it when I see health experts warn against consuming too many sugars like soda, syrup and honey. They are right with the exception of honey which they truly don’t understand. Honey is NOT a sugar but a whole food. I believe it is the ONLY whole food sweetener on the planet. According to studies, honey can reduce high blood sugar, improve energy, promote weight loss, reduce allergies, and heal the gut among other things. Putting it to the challenge, it is the ONLY sugar diabetics should expose themselves to and, because it is a whole food, it cannot become addictive or damaging to health. Only the opposite is true. If properly bottled and stored, honey can remain viable for thousands of years making it the only food storage that does not lose its value. This alone makes it a valid investment potentially worth MORE than inedible gold. Eat it, sell it, trade it, add it to your first aid kit, the uses are endless. Research suggests 2 tbsp. morning and night to improve health and reduce metabolic stress disorder, a common link between all diseases. In combination with cinnamon it becomes a powerful natural antibiotic and even enhances sports performance. In hospitals nurses today still successfully turn to honey when sick patients stop responding to standardized antibiotics.

(Prenten Frazier as BFJ) Turning my life over to beekeeping, I have been highly blessed in many ways. Learning about natural diseases that threaten bee health has also led to other areas of valuable knowledge that can also improve human health such as the study of probiotics on bee gut health. It is as though all of life is encircled in one great big truth. The Sun is truly the source of sustained life and nectar is her first product. When procured by the honey bee nectar is only half alive. Only after the combined biology of the bee gut and the insect’s fermenting techniques is nectar converted into a living whole food full of minerals, enzymes and delicate digestive cultures designed not just for survival, but vibrant health. Every part of the bee is edible/ useful for man from the honey to wax, to proteins, royal jelly, venom & propolis. Being in line as a perfect mirror for the body, it is the ideal food for the cells and the release of ATP energy produced by the mitochondria improving biogenesis. Honey does not initiate stressful or toxic chemical responses in the body like all other sugars that lead to diabetes or weight gain. Instead it is quickly converted into glycogen and burned clean. Those not used to high consumption of honey might experience cleansing effects. In an effort to inspire and facilitate the re-introduction of honey into the modern diet and to replace other sugars, I have begun a work finding the best applications of honey raw and unheated to replace in everyday common foods such as bread, Ketchup, ice cream, cereal, soda pop, etc. etc. etc. Today I feel this might be a task as insurmountable as food and life itself. It also appears to have endless possible applications in the field of topical and internal medicine.

“Let food be thy medicine, and let medicine be thy food” is too incredibly inspired wisdom to have originated from Hippocrates as some may believe, it had to have come directly from the mouth of God himself”.


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