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Goodbye, Nauvoo Page 5
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“This is wonderful,” Lydia replied as she stared around at the space. “Thank you.”
There was a window overlooking the temple, a small desk, bed, and fireplace, everything Lydia needed to be content.
“I’ll leave you be to unpack. Let me know if you need anything,” Lucy said with a smile. “Supper will be ready shortly.” She backed out of the room and closed the door.
It didn’t take Lydia long to unpack her trunk and to tidy the space to her liking. It wasn’t a large room, but it was more comfortable than her old cabin, and Lydia was grateful for a room nonetheless.
As the days went by, Lydia began working for Lucy. Laundry was tedious, repetitive work, and Lydia’s hands were sore and worn from the harsh lye soap, but the work kept her busy and her mind occupied. Lydia much preferred the sewing work Lucy gave her, but she kept her opinions to herself and performed whatever duty she was given without comment.
At night, Lydia joined the Parkers as they studied the scriptures by candlelight in their parlor. After they said family prayers, Lydia made her way upstairs where she would lie on her bed staring up at the ceiling, thinking of Danny while Beth and Annie chattered girlishly until they fell asleep next to her.
Lydia could see Danny’s face in the blinking candlelight on the ceiling, and when she closed her eyes she was transported back in time when they were newlyweds, starting out their life together in the little cabin. Nightmares always followed these night visions, sometimes of Danny’s death and other times of losing Rebecca, their graves rising up out of the earth in ghoulish mounds. She’d wake covered in sweat, her racing heart feeling like it would burst through her nightdress.
Predominantly, Danny was the one who haunted her every waking moment. One day, when the day’s laundry work was complete, Lydia was sewing by the light of a tall window downstairs. Every now and then, Lydia would look up from her sewing and out into the world. From her view, she could see the dirt street that paralleled the Parker home where people were bustling about all day long. An older woman wobbled past, carrying an apron full of eggs. A young man pushed a cart of hay. Little boys ran past, chasing a stray dog. A childless couple strolled by, hand in hand.
For a second, Lydia saw herself and Danny instead, walking hand in hand to worship services. Danny’s jet black hair was slicked to the side and Lydia wore her favorite bonnet. They walked slowly, relishing their time together. Then Danny leaned over and kissed her on the cheek as they walked.
“We’re pleased to have you here, Lydia. I hope you’ve made yourself at home.” Lucy had sat herself down across from her niece with her own sewing work in hand. Her low voice jolted Lydia from her daydream.
“I have. Thank you, Aunt Parker,” Lydia said blushing as she returned to her sewing.
Lucy gave Lydia a warm smile, then threaded her needle and pulled the long end of the thread high into the air. “Annie and Beth have been talking non-stop about how much it means to them to have a new big sister. I hope they won’t be too much of a nuisance to you.”
Lydia laughed. “Their company is very welcome. I promise.”
“That is good to hear,” Lucy said. "They are good girls. Annie more than Beth. Beth has a wild streak that will need to be tamed, but she is smart and sweet. Annie is the obedient daughter. She has always looked up to Beth. They rely on each other so much. Especially now.”
“What do you mean?”
Lucy sighed. “The current state of Nauvoo has been hard on them. They aren’t as social as they’d like to be, and I admit I haven’t helped with that. It's just not safe anymore for them to run free. I don’t even let them walk to and from school by themselves anymore. Faddy takes them each day.”
Lydia looked up. “Because of the mobbers?”
“Yes,” Lucy said sadly.
“I understand your sentiments. If I had daughters I would want to keep them safe, too.”
Lydia sewed in silence after that, thinking about the mobbers. She finished hemming a dress and folded it neatly in her lap. “Do you think we will be safe in Zion?”
“Of course. We will be safe wherever the Lord leads us. Whether that is in Zion or elsewhere.”
“But you don’t worry about the mobbers there? They could follow us.”
“Yes, they could, but why worry?” Lucy shrugged. “We can’t do anything about it if they did.”
“I don’t understand that. I thought the Lord was supposed to protect us if we are living the gospel.”
“And He does. But it would be a fallacy to think that He would change men’s hearts to make them not hate us or hurt us. That would go against His promise to us, that we would have free agency, that He would give us the gift to choose between right and wrong for ourselves. Remember? That was Satan’s plan - to force us to do what is right. That is why there are mobs. Because those men are using their free agency to do evil. But remember as well, it is Heavenly Father’s plan for us that we must go through trials and sadness so that we may know what true happiness is like.”
Lydia thought about Lucy’s words. Ever since Danny died she was angry at God. He doesn’t love me. He took away my child, and He took away my husband, and He took away my family. Why? Why me? Lydia bit her lip, holding back the blasphemous words that she wanted to speak. Instead, she picked up a pair of socks to sew on.
Lucy looked up at Lydia and waited for a reply. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here, Lydia. The girls are so pleased to have an older sister.”
Lydia smiled. “And I am pleased to have younger sisters! I’ve always wanted a sister. But I don’t mean to take Martha’s place.”
“Don’t you worry about that. Martha was married before the girls were really old enough to know her well. Beth was eight and Annie would have been six when Martha married Samuel. Their time together didn’t overlap for very long.”
Lydia pondered over the age difference between Martha and her younger sisters. Lydia remembered that Martha was eighteen when she was married in 1838. That meant that there was a ten-year age difference between her and Beth. It was strange to Lydia that Lucy wouldn’t have had more children during that time. However, out of respect, Lydia said nothing. She knew all too well that pregnancies failed and children passed away. It wouldn’t do to impolitely press her aunt to satisfy her own curiosity.
After an uncomfortable silence, Lucy spoke again. “Yes, what was I saying? That’s right, Annie and Beth are excited to have you here. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy your time with us. However long that may be.”
“Yes, Aunt Parker.”
All of a sudden Faddy appeared from the front door with Beth and Annie trailing behind him. Faddy had returned from fetching his girls from school.
“Welcome home!” Lucy rose to peck her husband on the cheek. “How was school?”
“It was fine, Mother,” said Beth. She noticed Lydia and clapped her hands for joy.
“Cousin Lydia!” Beth exclaimed as she and Annie surrounded Lydia. “I have so much to tell you about our day. Where do I start?”
“Shh, let’s not smother your cousin with your stories,” said Lucy with a wink. She looked apologetically at her niece. “Beth will talk your ear off if you let her. Her favorite subjects are about boys. Isn’t that right?”
“Not just boys,” Annie squealed in delight. "One boy in particular.”
“Oh hush, you,” Beth hissed, nudging her sister.
“Yes, we all know which boy she has her heart set on,” Faddy answered coolly. "You don’t need to tell us, Annie.”
Lydia decided to join in on the fun. “Is it the boy I hear you wooing over at night? What’s his name? Isaac?”
“You could hear us!” Beth cried, her face twisted in a mortified expression. "I didn’t know you could hear us!”
“That’s no surprise, Beth. Faddy and I can hear your jabber sneaking down through the floorboards every night,” Lucy teased.
“Don’t worry,” Lydia laughed. "I don’t know who he is anyway.”
As she bantered with the Pa
rkers, Lydia felt full of gratitude toward them. The Parkers took her in and gave her a home. Lydia missed her old life with Danny, and the Parkers could never replace the family that she lost, but they were helping fill the void.
“Come, girls, shouldn’t you be working on your samplers instead of pestering your cousin?” Lucy said above the hum of voices. "Let her have a rest, we can talk after dinner.” She started for the kitchen. “I’ve got a stew brewing I should check on. Perhaps Martha has mentioned my famous stew?”
Lydia could smell it, the delicious scent of a savory mixture of beef and vegetables.
“Let me help,” Lydia replied, rising to follow her.
To her surprise, Faddy answered for Lucy. “No, you stay right where you are. I’ve got some words to speak with you.” His voice was a little darker than normal.
Lydia set down her sewing. “What’s the matter?”
Faddy sat himself down in Lucy’s spot. He rocked back and forth and brushed his beard with a hand in a pondering kind of way. “Your cabin. It’s gone.”
Lydia looked shocked. “Gone?”
“Some mobbers got to it. Set fire to it.”
Lydia’s heart sunk. She didn’t live there anymore, but it was still a sacred place to her, with sacred memories.
Faddy continued. “But that’s not the worst of it. They set fire to the barn, too.” Thankfully, Faddy had been able to sell the animals, but they hoped that the barn and cabin would increase the value of the property. Now, it was just vacant land ready for farming. It would fetch something, possibly, but it would not be as valuable. More than anything, the idea of her cabin and barn being desecrated by mobbers mortified and angered Lydia.
“And Rebecca?” she asked, referring to her stillborn child.
“Her marker’s still there. By some miracle the mobbers let it be.”
Lydia felt a little bit of relief at the news. She looked carefully down at her hands.
“It’s a shame, Lydia, a shame.”
Faddy cleared the back of his throat. In a gesture of comfort, he put a hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “I have someone coming to look at it this evening. You are welcome to come with us. There may not be much left to sell now, except for the ashes. I’m sorry.”
But there wasn’t much for Faddy to be sorry about. Lydia knew that living on the outskirts of town was dangerous. She knew it was only a matter of time before her farm was taken by the mobs. Perhaps it was a little mercy the Lord had shown her by preserving her, by placing her in the safety of Faddy’s home before the mob came through. Perhaps He didn’t hate her after all.
Chapter 9
The Sunrise Ceremony
“You invited Margaret and Silas over for dinner?” Martha asked frantically. “I haven’t had time to clean the house, and I haven’t a clue what to make.”
Samuel hadn’t told her until that afternoon they would be hosting his parents that evening. Silas, Samuel’s father, had finally returned from chopping wood in Wisconsin, and his homecoming warranted a family feast.
“Make what you were planning on cooking, no need to make anything fancy,” Samuel replied, his head in the Nauvoo Neighbor newspaper.
Samuel made a whistling sound. “Well, I’ll be! Look here, it reads, ‘An old woman, living in Moscow, attained her 157 years. When 123 she married her fifth husband.’” Samuel grinned from ear to ear. “See, there is hope for long life.”
Martha ignored her husband’s excitement. There was too much to do to prepare for her in-law’s visit and so little time.
Asenath stirred from her slumber and began to squeal from her cradle. Somehow Martha managed to suckle the babe, then tidy her home while dinner was stewing. Samuel helped wrangle the smaller children out of the kitchen while Martha and Malinda prepared the table just in time for Margaret and Silas to make their appearance. They also brought their younger children with them: William and Phoebe. William was a smaller, four-year-old version of Silas and Samuel with his long, narrow face and stoic demeanor. Ten-year-old Phoebe was the spitting image of her mother with her long, burnt oak colored hair braided into a tight bun.
“Welcome home, Silas,” Martha said, giving him a little curtsy as she greeted her father-in-law for the first time in many years.
Samuel cheerfully embraced his father and introduced him to Johnnie and Asenath, who were born while Silas was away.
Martha led her family to the dining table where she served bowls of stew with a generous helping of bread and freshly churned butter.
“What is Wisconsin like?” Samuel asked.
Silas took a seat at the table. “It is not unlike living in Canada. The sun sets well into the evening in the summer, and very early in the winter. And winters are dreadfully cold. Temperatures were well below freezing with the wind.”
“I thought the winters here were bad enough,” Samuel said.
“They are, but they don’t last nearly as long as in Wisconsin. At least half the year we were covered in snow. I like to say there are two seasons there. Winter and summer.” Silas glanced toward Sam. “Somehow your brothers wanted to stay. They decided to settle in Black River Falls.” Silas frowned.
“It must not have been all that bad, then,” Martha said.
“No, there are some redeeming qualities. There’s a new colony of Saints there. And the Mississippi River extends all the way north. Have you seen the logs that float down the Mississippi? They were probably chopped by one of our gang, sent all the way down from Wisconsin,” Silas declared proudly.
“Yes, my boys are such hard workers,” Margaret agreed. “It's unfortunate they didn’t want to come back. There’s still so much work for them to do here.”
Martha looked puzzled. “Why didn’t they want to come back?”
Silas took a sip of cider from his tin cup and set it down on the table before answering. “The news of the mobs and the Prophet’s murder reached us in Wisconsin. They thought it would be safer to stay there than to come back here. Of course, they may have met some girls that convinced them to stay. Women can be quite persuasive.” He grinned at Margaret, who gave him a wry look from behind her spectacles. Silas cleared his throat. “And that is why I came back. I couldn’t leave this woman behind.”
“But we wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Samuel laughed. Silas joined him.
Margaret glared scathingly at her son. “Samuel!”
Anxious to change the subject, Martha cleared her throat. “Samuel told me that the exterior of the temple is almost close to complete! Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes,” Samuel said. “Speaking of which, there will be a grand ceremony to celebrate the laying of the capstone next week, a sunrise ceremony,” Samuel interjected.
Martha’s heart beat fast in surprise and excitement. “Next week? Why haven’t I heard of this before?”
“Because I found out only today,” Samuel replied.
“So we are invited then?” Margaret asked.
“Of course,” Samuel said. “All of you are since you're my family. Just don’t let the word slip to anyone else. There are hopes that by keeping the ceremony secret, it will keep away the mobbers.”
Silas looked up in alarm. “Mobbers? Should we come armed?”
“Of course not, Father. I doubt any mobbers would even arrive. That is the hope, at least, for starting the ceremony at sunrise,” Samuel replied with a wink.
✽✽✽
Martha woke up before at the break of dawn and pulled her sleepy children from their beds. Today was the day the last cornerstone of the Nauvoo temple was to be laid and she wanted to be there to see it. Just as the sun began to peek over the green Nauvoo bluffs, Martha made a breakfast of day-old bread with butter for her children and ate quickly by the light of a lantern.
“Oh, how exciting! To think of the progress made on the temple since we first came here,” Martha gushed. “Now, let’s not dawdle, or we’ll be late to the meeting.”
As soon as their bellies were full, they were off. Martha’s
skirts rustled wildly about as she scurried with little Asenath in her arms. Martha’s cheeks blushed in embarrassment to be seen hurrying, but she didn’t want to miss the ceremony. A band began to play from off in the distance, so she picked up her pace.
“They’re starting!” Samuel warned.
When they arrived at the temple site at 6 o’clock in the morning, a crowd was gathered at the base of the building, their necks craned to look up to the top of the temple where the Nauvoo Brass Band was positioned playing merry aires. It seemed like the congregation was still waiting for the event to begin. A wave of relief came over Martha to know that she hadn’t arrived too late.
“Do you see your family?” Martha asked Samuel as she searched the crowd for Margaret and Silas. She shuffled impatiently in place.
“No, but I’m sure they’re here,” Samuel said, then pointed up to the top of the temple. “Look! That’s where they’ll lay the capstone.”
“Where?” Martha squinted to see, but couldn’t make out what Samuel was pointing at. She was not quite sure what a capstone looked like, but she had heard about them from Samuel, who worked close to the stonemasons.
“There, in the southeast corner, on the very roof of the building,” Samuel replied. “Just wait, you’ll see soon.”
Someone from the crowd shouted, “Look! They are about to begin!” and a new hush passed over the crowd. A group of men appeared who Martha recognized as church authorities.
“Do you recognize who that man is?” Martha quizzed her daughters in a whisper, pointing out the leader of the church - a middle-aged man with a dark brown beard and tailored green suit jacket.
Malinda and Sarah shook their heads sleepily, still drowsy from being woken up early.
“That’s President Brigham Young.”
Everyone was utterly silent now, including the band, and all that could be heard were the distant sounds of bawling animals from a nearby farm.
Martha and her family watched as President Young and the other church authorities climbed the rickety stairs until they arrived at the top. President Young prayed over the ceremony and began with a short speech.