“No!” I yell, trying to turn the ring with my stick. It immediately tips over, kicking up a little puff of dirt where it skids to stop on its side. I might have had better success turning the ring had I considered a few basic gyroscopic principles
[57] that I had accidentally observed while spinning my bicycle wheel as it sat upside down after fixing a flat tire. But who has time to think of all that? After all, Joseph is winning big time.
I frantically lift the ring, turn it back toward the road and give it a whack. This time it gets going pretty good. “I’m coming now!” I holler.
“I’m winning,” Joseph calls back as his ring bounces onto the road.
I run behind my ring nudging it as hard as I dare. I can not afford another catastrophic collapse of my wooden wheel onto the ground. In fact, I can not afford another misdirection due to operator error. After all, my reputation is at stake. I have to go fast. And Joseph is still winning.
“Hah,” Joseph yelps as he passes me going the other way. “I’m ahead of you,” he yells, giving his wooden ring a calculated nudge.
I have no time to watch him gloat. After all, I am approaching the road with all the speed and determination I wish it had earlier. I take a flying leap and place a full body block in front of the ring. It bumps against my leg, coming to an instant full stop. I jump back and before it has a chance to fall I whack it with my stick and send it wobbling on its way toward the finish line. It tries to go sideways when it rolls over a patch of grass, but I give it no mercy and smack it again. It is not going perfectly straight, but I need the speed.
Now I can see Joseph just up ahead. I see him give his ring a nudge and for the first time I hear William and George, cheering from the porch.
“Go, Joseph! Go, Joseph,” they yell.
Hey! I think. Who’s cheering for me?
“Go, Jared!” I hear Annie yell.
I do go. I give my ring another whack and by some miracle it heads straight for the finish. I run to catch up with it and nudge it on to victory, but Joseph gives his ring a final push and it bounces triumphantly over the finish line.
“Yay! Yay! Yay!” he screams. “I won. I’m the champion.”
“Wahoo!” George yells. “That was some race!”
I am a little saddened that my competitive nature is not satisfied and my ego is not nurtured by such a triumphant win, but just watching the joy Joseph gets by being the best is all worth it.
Annie and Joseph want to race next, so after they get into position I yell, “On your mark. Get set. Go!”
It is a very close race. Sometimes Annie is ahead. Sometimes Joseph. William and George and I cheer so loud that Henry and Elizabeth come out to see what all the commotion is about. They can’t help but to cheer a little, too.
Joseph wins again, but I almost need a photographic finish to tell. Annie is really close. One thing for sure, we are going to hear about how great Joseph is for the next few days. He is so excited. Annie is not too happy, though, and that just makes the win for Joseph that much more sweet.
“I won. I won,” Joseph chants as he dances around waving his arms like a cheer leader.
“Okay,” I yell. “Let’s play a new game. It’s called … ah … Lover’s tag,” I say, totally making up the name. I see Elizabeth and Henry’s eyebrows go up. Maybe I should have called it by it’s real name, Mormon Tag.
[58] But that would have raised a lot of hard to explain questions, and we have a game to play.
“Well, maybe it’s not Lover’s Tag,” I backpedal quickly. Maybe it is called Friend Tag. All you do is get a partner and interlock your elbows, like this.” Annie is close by, so I lock my elbow with hers.
“Kind of like you are going to start a dance,” Tom chimes in as he emerges from the house.
“Yes. Exactly,” I agree. I want to say that that is why some people call it Lover’s Tag, but I decide not to push my luck. “Now, one person is “It” and tries to catch another person who is not paired up. If he wants to rest, he has to run over to someone who is paired up and grab their elbow. The person on the other side has to let go and run because now he is the one being chased.”
“I get it,” Annie yells. “You’re safe from being caught if you are locking elbows with someone.”
“Exactly. So, I’m going to be “It” first, and I’m going to chase Annie. The rest of you better pair up quickly.”
Annie looks shocked for a second, then lets out a scream and darts toward William, who has linked arms with George. Annie grabs William’s arm and George brakes loose.
“Aaah,” he yells, and jumps to the porch, grabbing Elizabeth’s arm. Henry’s eyes get wide and he immediately runs toward Joseph, but I tag him and grab Joseph’s arm.
It is great to see the whole family laughing and playing together. We run and chase each other until we are totally exhausted.
“Come in for lunch,” Elizabeth finally calls. She turns and enters the cabin and one by one we each follow.
For lunch we eat home baked bread with some kind of meat. I decide that it is not beef, and with that decided, I do not want to know more, at least for now, anyway. Of course we also have a large, cold glass of lumpy milk.
“Hey, William,” I say as he and I get up from the table after lunch. “I bet I can beat you at a Stick Pull.
[59] Do you want to try?”
I would love to win a game of Stick Pull, if you will show me how to play,” William laughs.
“I’ll be glad to show you,” I say. “Come on.”
“Actually, you will need to show me tomorrow,” he says wincing apologetically. “Family rules are that Sunday afternoons are considered quiet time.”
“Quiet time?” I ask. “What do you usually do during quiet time?”
“You can read. Father likes to read the scriptures, but if we ask him, he will let us borrow them to read. Or you can read to someone, like Joseph or Annie. Or you can write a letter or draw a picture. I carved a whistle once during quiet time.”
“That’s …” I almost say ‘cool’, but instead I say “… great! I’m going to ask your father if I can read his scriptures for a while.”
William pulls out a knife and starts whittling on a small piece of wood, and I walk over to Henry.
“Would you mind if I borrow your Book of Mormon to read for a little while?” I ask, hopefully.
“I am always happy to lend this book,” Henry smiles, handing over his scriptures. “What part are you going to read?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I learn something new every time I read this book. What’s your favorite part?”
“I like the book of Ether. He is a great prophet. But it is actually Moroni who talks about faith.”
[60]
“Thanks. That is where I will start,” I say, taking the book and carefully opening its pages after settling into a comfortable spot on the polished wooden floor. After all, if a guy is named after an ancient prophet, he should read what he says, I think. I have read from the book of Ether before. In fact, I have read the entire Book of Mormon, but I like Ether.
I locate the section on faith toward the end of Ether and begin to read those passages. After a minute or so Joseph comes over and sits on the floor next to me. He pulls the rabbit’s foot out of his pocket and begins making it hop around the floor as his toy springs to life in his imagination.
Soon the jumping rabbit’s foot and the hard wooden floor and the quiet murmur of conversation around the family room melt away as I read the words of the ancient prophet, Ether. I am just starting to read the words of Moroni concerning faith when Annie quietly sits down next to me and stares at the page I am reading, so I read the next sentence out loud, “Behold, it is the faith of Alma and Amulek that cause the prison to tumble to the earth.”
[61]
“Father says that this book is true,” Annie says softly. “Do you think it is true?”
I am a little surprised by her innocent question, but I am also surprised by the conviction of m
y answer, which comes from my heart. “Yes. I know it is true.”
“How do you know?” she asks, again very seriously. She is not challenging me. She just wants to know.
“Well,” I say, gathering my thoughts, “Toward the back of the Book, Moroni says that to know if it is true, all you have to do is read it, then pray to God with real intent to know if it is true, having faith that He will tell you, and then He will let you know in your heart that it is true.
[62] That’s how I know.”
“It’s hard to have faith,” Annie says softly.
“It is if you try to have huge faith all at once. Remember me telling you this morning how a seed reminds me of faith?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you start out with just a little bit of faith, like just wanting to believe in Jesus Christ. That is a tiny bit of faith. It is like planting a seed. That belief will grow, just like a seed grows. And just like how you have to water it so it doesn’t die, you have to feed your little bit of faith.”
“How do you feed it?”
“By reading the scriptures and by praying and going to church. Those are good ways.”
Annie thinks about that for a moment and I can see in her eyes that she is going to plant that seed and water it.
“Do you have a favorite story in the scriptures?” she asks. For a moment I think she is changing the subject, but I realize that this was the ‘watering’.
“Actually, I do. It is about Alma and Amulek.
[63] They were teaching the people of Ammonihah about Jesus Christ.
Annie giggles. “That’s a funny name.”
“It is kind of funny sounding, isn’t it? It sounds like an Indian name.”
“Yes, it does.” She giggles again.
“Well, some of the people believed Alma and Amulek when he told them about Jesus Christ, but many did not. Those people threw the believers into a fire and burned them up, but they threw Alma and Amulek into prison.”
“They were mean people,” Annie says. “I wouldn’t like them.”
“Yes, they were very mean,” I agree. “They tied up Alma and Amulek with rope and then took their clothes away. After that, many of the people that did not believe in Jesus walked by them and spat on them and slapped them and said, ‘If you have the power of God, then free yourself from these ropes’.”
“What did they do?” Annie is almost crying.
“Alma stood up, and with great faith, prayed to God, and God broke the ropes. Those mean people were so afraid that they fell to the ground. Then God shook the walls of the prison until the walls fell down on those people. Alma and Amulek walked out unhurt. I like that story because Alma and Amulek had tremendous faith in Jesus Christ.”
“I like that story, too,” Annie says. She gets up and leaves the room. In a moment she returns with Emma and again sits on the floor close by. I return to the Book of Ether and read up to the beginning of Moroni. Resting my head against the log wall, I close my eyes. Across my mind floats images of the Jaredite nation being destroyed because of iniquity.
I feel something poke my arm and I know without looking that it will be a Jaredite spear. The warrior is very persistent and pokes me again. I do not want to be a prisoner, and even more I do not want to be impaled and left to die on the battlefield. The warrior pushes again. With all my strength I reach up with both hands to defend myself and let out my own war cry. Then my eyes open.
William is pushing on my shoulder and a broad smile fills his face.
Annie giggles where she sits on the floor next to me with Emma in her lap. “You were sleeping with your mouth open, again,” she says smiling.
“I thought you were going to punch me,” William says laughing. “I just wanted to wake you because it is time to do the milking.”
“You yelled pretty loud,” Annie giggles again.
“I guess I was asleep,” I say, stretching and slowly getting to my feet.
“Yeah you were.”
I stretch again trying to expel the groggy cobwebs of sleep from my mind. I stoop over and pick up Henry’s scriptures from off the floor where I had set them.
“I guess it is chore time,” I say softly to Annie. She makes a face that is sign language for ‘I know. I hate chores, too.’
I walk across the small room to where Henry sits on a bench by the dinner table. He is writing a list on a crumpled piece of newspaper.
“Thank you,” I say as I hand Henry the scriptures. “Thank you for letting me read your Book of Mormon.”
“You’re welcome, Jared.”
I turn and quickly slip out the front door to help William with the milking. When I round the corner of the cabin, William is just tying Spot to the wooden post. I walk carefully and quietly over to William trying not to spook Spot. The short walk is not nearly so treacherous as before when I had no boots, but I still try not to step directly into any fresh cow pies.
“Here,” William says, motioning for me to take his place. “You milk Spot this time.”
I kneel down, trying to find a soft place in the dirt that isn’t wet. I am not too good at this milking thing right at first, and even Spot notices and tries to step away. William coaches me and after a few minutes I have a steady rhythm of milk flowing into the bucket.
“This will be exciting to go to the Utah Territory,” William says rapidly out of the blue.
I can hear the excitement in his voice. If he could climb into a wagon and go today I think he would do it.
“What is so great about Utah?” I ask. “I mean, here in Colorado you have a home, your family, a job.”
“I guess in my mind I think of Utah as the land of opportunity. Start a new life. That sort of thing. How do you imagine Utah?”
Wow! What a question! I want to tell him that I lived in Utah for a while. And that what I remember is that everyone has a large house with a basement. That in Utah it snows a lot and if you save your money you can go snow skiing in the winter. Some kids go fishing and camping in the summer and their fathers take them deer hunting in the fall when the leaves on the trees turn colors. Most people I know have a four wheel drive truck and a garage to park it in. If you are kind of wealthy, your family has a quad or a snowmobile. That’s what I want to say. But what I do say is, “I imagine Utah as a busy place, where the people are busy doing good things for other people. It is a place where families are important and where the Church is strong. I think that in Utah people expect you to be a decent and an honest person. Utah is about the same latitude, so I expect that it will snow and be cold in the winter just like in Colorado.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” William agrees. “I haven’t thought of all that. I’ve heard rumors that Brigham Young planned out Salt Lake City with really wide streets. Like wide enough to have eight wagons side by side. Isn’t that crazy? Who needs a street that wide?”
“Well, that rumor is actually true. Brigham Young actually wanted a wagon to be able to turn around in the street without provoking the driver to use profanity.
[64] I’m sure that he expects Salt Lake to grow and become a major city someday. I think being able to envision the future is the mark of a wise man.”
“I guess so, but eight wagons? Wow.”
William continues on with his excited chatter about moving to Utah. He talks about what he is taking, what he will not be able to take, and what the trail will be like.
“Father says that we are going to take the Overland Stagecoach Trail,” William informs me authoritatively. “He says that supply wagons go that way all the time. The trail goes northward up into the Dakota Territory.
[65] Then it goes around the mountains and down into Utah. That’s why we have to go now.”
“Huh?” I say, not following his train of thought. “Tell me why you have to go now? I mean, besides the fact that your family is going now.”
I can see that dreamy look in William’s eyes fade back to solid reality as his mind absorbs and processes my question.
“Because it is a long trek,” he explains. He can tell that I still do not understand, but I think he is getting used to this Arizona city-boy, and that he has to explain things in more detail.
William continues, “A wagon has to get through the north country while it is summer because the snow in the winter gets so deep that a wagon can’t pass through it. Besides, it gets really cold. Of course, when it gets that cold, you can get across the rivers easier,” he adds.
“Because they are frozen over?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says, and I know he is thinking that there is hope for me after all. “In the spring the rivers flood and the ground is soft and muddy. It is hard for a wagon to travel then, too. We are hoping to be in the most northern part of the trail in mid-summer. That will be best.”
I finish milking and my pail is full nearly to the top. William helps me lift it over the corral and then he unties Spot.
William and I carry the pail of milk into the cabin and set it into the kitchen just in time for supper. I find some water in the kitchen and wash my hands before sitting down at the table.
After the blessing on the food, Elizabeth lifts a pitcher from the table and begins pouring milk into each cup. I am pretty hungry and the milk looks very refreshing even though I know very well that this milk did not come from a plastic jug that says ‘homogenized’ on the label.
Henry takes a large spoon and dishes a generous helping of soup into his bowl.
“Mmm! I love soup,” Joseph croons.
“Me, too,” Annie agrees. “But it sure is a lot of work to make it,” she frowns.
Thomas hands her a plate of steaming hot corn bread fresh out of the oven and I see the frown melt away as she adds a little real butter across the top. The soup finally gets to me. It is so thick with diced potatoes and chunks of meat that it is more like stew than soup.
“Mmm! I agree with Joseph,” I smile as I taste the first spoonful of soup. “You did a great job, Annie.”
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