Authors: Stanford Vaterlaus
As my attention snaps back to Henry Cottle and our little church service, I audibly suck in a deep breath of air, causing both Annie and William to give me a quick glance to see if I am all right.
“Someday soon,” Henry is saying, “I hope to hold the Priesthood of God and be able to bless my family, but for now we will have to do without … with just knowing that Jesus is the Christ. That He is our Savior and Redeemer.”
“He says that every Sunday,” William whispers as he leans toward me.
“We will begin this Church service with a hymn,” Henry continues. “Let’s sing ‘Redeemer of Israel.’
[47]
Grandfather Brettle,
[48]
can you start us off with your harmonica?”
I know this one,
I think with delight as Grandfather Brettle blows the first note.
At least I sort of know it.
Everyone starts singing, even Joseph, and sing four verses from memory. I jump right in and sing, too, but sort of get lost on the third and fourth verses.
As the hymn comes to a close and the echoes of the last note dissipate into the wooden walls of the modest front room, Henry stands. “I just want to say that I am a very blessed man. I am blessed to have my family here with me today. It was a happy day when I was able to send money back to England so you could come here. How wonderful it was the night you arrived and we were all together again. I will never forget the joy of that reunion.”
“I won’t either,” William whispers in my ear. “There was so much hugging and kissing going on, I thought Mother would squeeze me in two.”
[49]
I smile at the thought, then push William away as Henry gives us the ‘Don’t talk when I’m talking’ look.
“I was also blessed to hear about the restoration of the gospel on the earth,” Henry continues. “I knew it was true when I heard it because the Holy Spirit testified to me that it is true. That the gospel of Jesus Christ is once again on the earth. I knew it then and I know it today. That’s why I chose to be baptized back then when we all lived in England.
[50]
I am looking forward to another great day when we all get to Utah where each one of you can also get baptized in Christ’s church and where we can partake of the sacrament.”
As Henry sits down, William’s grandfather speaks, followed by his grandmother. Both profess their belief in Christ as their Savior. Elizabeth speaks next and quietly bares testimony of Jesus Christ. “He is my Savior and Redeemer,” she says with glistening eyes. I have known that for many years. Why do you think I have put up with Henry for so long?” Everyone laughs and I smile at the thought. I am sure she puts up with him because she loves him. I can see it in their eyes. “He is a good man,” Elizabeth continues, “and his faith is strong. He is as Alma said when he spoke of the Sons of Mosiah and of Helaman, that he is ‘no less serviceable'.
[51]
And my hope and prayers each day are that my own sons will grow to be like the Sons of Helaman, strong in faith and courageous against evil.”
I have seen paintings of what these Sons of Helaman might have looked like,
I think.
They were big, strong men with bulging muscles, and their chins were held high with confidence. They did not have hatred and evil in their eyes, but instead I could see courage that comes from faith and from knowing that God would protect them.
My mind fills with imaginary battle scenes where these young warriors wield mighty swords against the terrifying, painted, ferocious faces of the Lamanites. A spear with its razor-sharp head shoots through the air, lashing out its deadly tongue to pierce the young warrior’s heart. With reflexes faster than a wildcat, the Son of Helaman swings his shield upward, deflecting death itself to the side and onto the ground.
He twists and lunges, driving his sword forward until it finds its mark. As if by instinct the young warrior ducks and he feels, across the top of his head, the enturbulated air created by an enemy sword passing swiftly and very close. With the strength of a lion he …
“Jared?”
My thoughts tumble back to the log home in Dogtown and to the humble church service in progress. Everyone is looking at me. In the back of my mind I vaguely remember seeing Annie and Joseph each speak, but I can not recall what they said.
Henry is speaking now. “Jared, would you like to tell us your feelings?”
“Yes,” I answer, looking around sheepishly. I want to tell them all about the Sons of Helaman, the Stripling Warriors, and the battles they fought with courage and faith. But then I say, “I, too, know that Jesus Christ is my Savior. I know that God is our Father and that we are His children. I know that I am a child of God. I know that Jesus Christ restored His church on the Earth and I am glad I was able to be baptized when I was eight years old.”
Henry stands up, and I can tell from his eyes that he is surprised and still thinking about me announcing that I had been baptized. Maybe he thinks I am talking about being baptized in another church. He is still looking at me when he says, “Anyone else like to speak?” His gaze shifts over to William.
William nods and says, “Someday I’d like to be baptized. That’s all.”
“Thank you, William. We will close this meeting by singing …”
I raise my hand and for a moment I feel like I am back in school. Henry nods, “Yes, Jared?”
“I know a great church song called ‘I Am a Child of God.’
[52]
It is very new.”
In fact, it is so new that it hasn’t been written yet,
[53]
I think, but I do not say that. I say, “I could teach it to you.”
“Okay,” Henry says hesitantly. “This could be quite a treat to hear a new song. After the song I would like Annie to close this church service with prayer.” Henry points to me.
“Great!” I smile standing up. “Let me tell you the words first, then we’ll put it to music. It starts,
‘I am a child of God, and He has sent me here.
Has given me an Earthly home with parents kind and dear.’”
I sing it for them and then they all try it. For a few minutes there, I am the Cottle Family Choir director. It is really fun to watch Annie and Joseph. They catch on to the words and melody very quickly and with their help the others soon are all singing.
Annie gives the closing prayer and thanks Heavenly Father for the new song. “We like the song because we know the words are true,” she says. “Amen.”
As Annie sits down Henry calls out, “I have an announcement.” All eyes turn to look at Henry and a hush settles over the family. “In four days we are going to leave for Utah.” Henry pauses and I can tell he is letting the idea soak in. I am not too surprised, though, because I have seen the oxen tied up outside and I know that the pioneers used oxen to pull their wagons. I can tell that Annie and Joseph are in shock.
“Your mother and I have been planning this for several weeks now,” Henry continues. “Things are changing in Central city and Black Hawk. Some of the mines are closing because the gold is running out. Before long I won't have a job here. So, I made a deal yesterday to buy two wagons and a horse. Your mother and I put the house up for sale. I already have received one offer on the house, but I’m hoping for more.
[54]
“Utah is that way,” George interrupts, pointing to the west. “Does that mean we have to cross those mountains?”
“No,” Henry answers. “These mountains stretch for many, many miles. Almost to Utah. We are going to go around them.”
“Can I take Emma to Utah?” Annie blurts out.
George shakes his head and Annie frowns, shooting imaginary poisonous darts from her eyes.
“Of course you can take Emma,” Elizabeth says, shaking her finger at George for teasing. “But you have to take care of her.”
“I will,” Annie promises.
“Who is Emma?” I whisper to William.
“It is her doll. She got it for Christmas last year. She treats it like a real baby.”
I lean over to Annie, “I want to see Emma,” I say quietly.
“She’s sleeping,” Annie whispers. “Maybe later.”
“I want to drive the wagon,” Thomas blurts. “I know how, and I’ve been practicing. I could even teach Jared.”
“Jared, are you coming with us to Utah?” Annie asks with a worried look on her face.
“I … I don’t know. I would like to, but maybe I should head back to Arizona. My mother is probably worrying about me by now.”
“Your mother
is
worrying about you,” Joseph pipes up. “But we know you are okay, ‘cause you’re with us.”
“Thanks, Joseph.”
The room falls really quiet just then.
It must be a lull in the conversation
, I think. I had heard that when you are in a group there tends to be a lull in the conversation about every twenty minutes. During this lull I am thinking about the upcoming move to Utah. I am sure everyone else is thinking about moving, too. I am sure it will be an adventure.
William, Tom and George start talking. I can hear enough to know that they are already calculating how much room there will be on the wagon, and what things they can take.
I turn to Annie. “Do you want to help me with something?”
“No. I’ve got things to do,” Annie says. She turns and sits facing away from me.
“Hmmm,” I say partly to myself and barely loud enough that Annie can hear if she wants to. Then more slowly, “O … kay.”
That was different
, I think.
Her mom must want her to do chores. That usually makes her pouty. I know it does me. The worst job in the world is cleaning my room.
An image of my room floats through my brain.
My own room would be nice,
I reminisce.
I wouldn’t even mind cleaning it.
“Okay, I’ll help you,” Annie says suddenly. “But I’m mad at you, you know.”
“I can see that you are unhappy. Why are you mad at me?” I rack my brain to come up with a reason why she would be mad at me.
You should be mad at George for teasing you,
I think,
or Elizabeth for making you do chores! I’m the nice one around here.
“Because you are leaving, of course,” she says batting her eyes in frustration. “Besides, you just got here, and I thought you were my friend.” She turns away quickly, but even so I still see the tear that seeps from the corner of her eye.
I reach out and put my arm around her shoulder and give her a squeeze. Hugging a girl should feel awkward to me, but Annie is more like a sister – a sister I never had, and she needs a hug. “I know,” I say quietly. “It makes me feel sad, too. You’re like a sister to me.” I drop my arm from her shoulder. “I … I mean a nice sister. Not the wicked witch kind of sister,” I smile. “Do you know that I never had a sister?”
“Do you have a brother?” Annie asks, wiping her cheek.
“Yes, but my mother and I got a letter saying that he died in an …” I want to say an automobile crash, but I remember that Annie will not know what an automobile is, so instead I say, “… an accident.”
“Oh,” Annie looks sad.
“So that’s why I need to go back home. Mom will be lonely without me.”
“Okay,” Annie says reluctantly. “But we will miss you, too.”
“I know. So here’s what I am hoping you will help me with.” I pause for a second to see if she is going to object. She looks eager to help.
“I need a few things that will help me get back home,” I say. “You could help me a lot if you could find me a seed, a real dove’s feather, and a small bag or something to put them in.”
Annie looks totally confused. “What do you need that stuff for?”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain,” I say lamely. She is staring straight into my eyes and I know that my attempt to avoid a long explanation about something that even I do not understand isn’t going to do it for her. I also know that trying to explain using an ancient spirit pouch and time travel will sound pretty ridiculous. I take a deep breath, “The seed reminds me of faith. You know how faith starts out small and then grows inside of you. And the feather reminds me of the Holy Ghost. Like when Jesus was baptized and the Holy Ghost descended in the form of a dove. Those things are important to remember and will help me get back home.”
“Okay,” she says shaking her head. “But a good lunch and some water will probably work better.”
“Thanks,” I say. “These will work great.”
“Hey!” Annie smiles. She jumps up and runs into the kitchen.
If I didn’t know better I would have thought that she was expecting her boyfriend to call and just heard the phone ring.
But that’s absurd!
I think.
She’s too young, and there are no telephones here.
I am still pondering her sudden exit when she bursts from the kitchen and stops directly in front of me with her arm stretched out.
“Here,” she says wiggling her closed fist.
I open my hand and into it she drops a bean.
I have seen beans like these in our food storage,
I think.
It looks like a pinto bean.
I am not used to seeing raw beans, however. Mostly just cooked ones, and so I am just guessing at its name. Still wondering what kind of bean it is, my eyes meet Annie’s.