“That I can agree with.”
“You say I’ve changed. Well, you’re right. And Liberty Jail was an important factor in that. I learned things there, and had things happen to me there that couldn’t—or at least wouldn’t—have happened in any other way.”
“Like what?”
“Like understanding that until a man is tested even as Abraham, the Lord cannot bless him with greater blessings.”
He saw Nathan’s puzzlement and went on quickly. “Do you remember in the School of the Prophets how we studied the ‘Lectures on Faith’?”
“I do.”
“Do you remember that in one of the lectures I said that unless a man is willing to offer his all in sacrifice to the Lord, not holding back anything, he cannot know with a certainty that his life is pleasing to God?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, that is what has happened to Hyrum and me. By the time we had endured over four months in that filthy, unbearable hole that wasn’t fit for animals, without losing hope, without losing faith, then we knew with unshakable certainty that our lives were acceptable to him. And so what has that done for my faith?”
Nathan was excited now. “It has deepened it.”
“Yes. And the same holds true for the Church. Our people went through those horrible depredations, endured persecution, mobs, looting, killing, loss of property, and still did not waver. In view of that, is there any doubt in your mind that our sacrifice is acceptable to God?”
“No.” He said it slowly and in wonder.
“Faith is power, Nathan. When you see men and women of faith, they always have great power—the power to part the Red Sea, the power to heal the sick, the power to raise the dead.” He leaned forward, his voice filled with great intensity. “Last July, during the sickness? Do you think that day of great power and healing would have happened if we had not been through the purifying fires of Missouri?”
“No,” Nathan breathed softly. “I hadn’t seen it in that light, but no, I don’t think it would have happened.”
“And that is what you are feeling now. The Lord is making us into a pure people, and the purer and more refined we become, the more he can give us, the more he can reveal to us.”
“Whew!” Nathan exclaimed. “That’s a lot to chew on.”
Joseph laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm. “Well, you’re the one who called me immature.” He lay back, stretching out to his full length. “As you know, Nathan, I’ve been working on a journal history. I feel a great urgency to write a record of the Restoration. There are already things which are lost—specific dates, who was involved in certain events—because I didn’t write them down at the time. Anyway, I was going through the Jackson County period the other day, reading again what has been written.”
“Yes?”
“I ran across something I had nearly forgotten. And you were there, so this will have meaning for you too.”
“What is that?”
“Remember that summer day in ’31, not long after we arrived in Missouri? We were out in Kaw Township with the Colesville Branch—Newel Knight, Joseph Knight, and the other Saints. We laid the first log for the first house in Zion.”
“Yes, I remember that very well.”
“Well, speaking of that day, I wrote something like this. After noting that we had laid the log, I said, ‘At the same time, through prayer, we consecrated the land of Zion and Sidney Rigdon dedicated it for the gathering of the Saints.’ ” He stopped, turning his head to look at Nathan. “And then I said, ‘It was a season of joy to those present and afforded a glimpse of the future, which time will yet unfold to the satisfaction of the faithful.’ ”
Nathan was watching him intently, but said nothing, not wanting to interrupt his mood.
“Well,” he continued, “I don’t know if right now is that future time we glimpsed back then or not. And if it is, I’m not sure how long it will last. But it certainly is a time of rest and recovery for us—for me, for the Church. I’m not going to worry a lot about the future right now, Nathan. We have our season of joy. Let’s make the most of it.”
The boat’s whistle, throaty and deep, rolled across the flatland, then reverberated off the bluffs to the east. Rebecca grabbed at her father’s sleeve. “Oh, Papa,” she cried, “let’s hurry. We’re going to miss it.”
Benjamin took her by the hand, smiling at her impatience. “It will take it another ten minutes to reach the dock and we’ll be there in five.”
A little sheepish, Rebecca nodded. “It sounded more like it was over there,” she said, pointing directly to where they were headed.
Jennifer Jo McIntire moved over and put an arm through Rebecca’s. “I’m really excited too,” she whispered. “Do you really think there might be somebody on the boat that knew Derek or Matthew?”
Lydia’s Emily, with all the confidence of an eight-year-old, put one hand on her hip in open disgust. “If they are from England, they have to know them.”
Nathan laughed and ruffled her hair. “Not quite, Emmy. There are lots of people in England.”
“But not all of them are Mormons, Papa,” young Joshua said. “And in Matthew’s letter he said that he and Derek were going to take the people to the ship. Couldn’t this be the same people?”
Caroline’s Joshua hooted softly, then put a hand on his namesake’s shoulder. “Yeah, Papa,” he teased, “how about that for logic? This son of yours has got a good head on his shoulders.”
Peter listened to the banter with some concern. He was the one who had been down to the steamboat landing and heard the rumor that a boatload of English immigrants was due to arrive in Nauvoo about two o’clock this afternoon. If that rumor proved to be false, there were going to be some very disappointed people, especially Rebecca and Jennifer Jo.
There was a large crowd at the landing. Peter’s news had spread quickly through the city. All of Nauvoo knew of the great success going on in England and were anxious to meet their brothers and sisters from across the Atlantic.
As the steamboat began to turn slowly toward the shore, the captain saw the waiting mass of people and let off three great blasts of the horn. The dock erupted. People were jumping up, trying to see over the heads of the crowd. They pointed, called out to one another, talked with great animation. Joshua reached out and touched his mother’s sleeve. “I think Peter just may be right,” he said. “Look at those people. The whole boatload is waiting to get off.”
She nodded. The people on board were lined up five and six deep along the railing. And they were close enough now that she could see bags and cases and boxes in their arms. They were waiting to disembark, and that was a good sign. Generally, there were no more than a dozen or so who got off the boats in Nauvoo.
As the boat came to within about fifty yards of the dock, someone suddenly shouted. “There’s Theodore Turley!”
“Where? Where?”
“There! Right on the front. See him? It is him! It is!”
Benjamin leaned forward, straining to see, feeling his heart start to race. If it was Theodore Turley, that meant it was the very group of Saints they were looking for. Then Mary Ann had him by the arm. “It is him!” she cried. “I see him.”
Benjamin turned to Rebecca, smiling happily. “Then you will have news of your husband for sure.”
Suddenly Peter was hopping up and down and waving wildly. “Sister Pottsworth! Sister Pottsworth!” He swung around and grabbed Jessica. “It’s our neighbor from Preston.” Back around he went, jumping up and down and calling out. “And there’s Jenny! Jenny’s with her! Oh, I can’t believe it. The Pottsworths have come, just like Derek and Matthew said they would.”
The Pottsworths were well back in the crowd and didn’t make it off the boat for several minutes. By that time, Peter could hardly contain himself. As they finally came down the gangplank, he was there waiting for them. The family pressed forward too as Sister Pottsworth dropped her valise and threw her arms open wide. Peter ran to her and
let her sweep him into her embrace. Laughing and crying, they hugged each other like mother and son. Jenny was next, more demure, but unable to totally restrain herself. Peter took her hands and held her back away from him, saying over and over, “Jenny, is that really you?”
Finally, they turned and Peter led them to the family. “Don’t tell me,” Sister Pottsworth said to Peter. “Let me guess.” She went right to Benjamin and Mary Ann. “You have to be Mother and Father Steed.” She gave Mary Ann a quick kiss on the cheek. “That is from your son.”
“Matthew?” Mary Ann cried, her voice suddenly breaking with emotion.
“Yes. Dear Matthew, how proud you must be of him. He and Derek were the last two people we set eyes on before we set sail. I have letters from the both of them in our cases.”
“You have a letter from Derek?” Rebecca said, stepping forward.
Mrs. Pottsworth’s smile broadened all the more. “And surely you are Rebecca,” she said, reaching out to touch her arm. “Derek has described you perfectly. I bring you his love.” She looked around. “And where is little Christopher? Oh, I must give Christopher a hug or Derek will never forgive me.”
Jessica stepped forward. She had been holding Christopher so Rebecca could move in among the new arrivals. “This is Christopher.”
“Oh, my,” Sister Pottsworth said, stepping back. “What a handsome young fellow you are.” She turned back to Rebecca. “And he’s now almost what? Seventeen months, right?”
Rebecca laughed, highly pleased. “Derek must have told you everything about him.”
She pulled a face, feigning pain. “You have no idea.”
Almost instantly she sobered, turning now to Nathan and Lydia. “And you are Joshua and Caroline?”
Nathan shook his head. “No, I’m Nathan and this is Lydia.”
“Of course,” she said instantly. “Joshua is much darker than you, right?”
Nathan laughed. This woman had been thoroughly briefed on the family. He turned and motioned to Joshua and Caroline. Not having any direct stake in these newcomers from England, they had stayed behind the rest of the family. “Come up here, you two,” Nathan called. Then, as they did, Nathan introduced them. “This is Caroline and this is Joshua.”
Then to their complete surprise, Sister Pottsworth was suddenly crying. Jenny had tears streaming down her face. Completely taken aback by the unexpected reaction, Caroline and Joshua didn’t know what to say.
Abigail Pottsworth reached in a pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. She wiped her eyes, then blew her nose. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “you must forgive me for letting my emotions get away from me.”
“That’s all right,” Caroline said, though she wasn’t exactly sure what had caused the sudden change.
Then, unable to hold it back any longer, Sister Pottsworth broke into a radiant smile. “Jenny and me,” she said, sniffing back the tears, “as we were boarding the ship in Liverpool, we met someone who thought he might know you two.”
“Liverpool?” Joshua responded in bewilderment. “I don’t think we know anyone from Liverpool.”
Jenny started to laugh through the midst of her tears. “Oh, I think you do.” She turned and pointed toward the boat. “We brought him with us just to be sure.”
The whole family turned to look at the riverboat. The bow of the boat was empty now except for one figure. He stood alone in the sunshine, watching the group onshore. Then a huge grin split his face and he lifted one hand in greeting.
A collective gasp went up. Joshua gaped. Caroline’s hand flew to her mouth and she staggered, her knees nearly buckling. Sister Pottsworth grabbed her arm and steadied her, now laughing and crying all at the same time. “You recognize that boy?”
Will shouldered a canvas bag he was carrying and ran lightly down the gangplank.
“Will?” Caroline cried with one strangled sob.
Joshua took her from Mrs. Pottsworth, putting an arm around her waist. Tears streaked his cheeks now as well. “It’s our son,” he said hoarsely. “Caroline. It’s Will!”
Will stood across the room from them, his canvas bag at his feet. His family watched him expectantly. Savannah was wiggling with excitement. Olivia, trying to be more mature, was not much better. Will looked at his mother, who held Charles on her lap. Will shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mama. If I had known while I was in China that you were going to have a baby, I would have gotten something for him too.”
Caroline just shook her head. “If there was any way we could have known where to write you about the baby, we would have.”
“I know.” Suddenly he had to look away. He blinked rapidly, trying to stop the burning in his eyes. “And, of course, I thought Pa was dead, so I . . .” He just shook his head, his eyes shining.
Joshua leaned forward, barely able to keep his own emotions under control. “Will, you have brought me the only gift I wanted, and that’s you.”
Will blew out his breath, fighting to keep his face from crumpling. “Well,” he said, finally reaching into the bag, “I did get Savannah something. Come here, Savannah.”
Savannah had been about a year and a half old when Will had run away from the Montague plantation. Now she was almost four. The red hair was long, to her shoulders; the eyes, even more blue and arresting than Will remembered. Now those eyes watched him gravely. At first Savannah had been wary of this stranger who was causing such a fuss, but Will had quickly teased that out of her, and now with the promise of a present, all reticence was gone. As he pulled out the long, narrow package wrapped in paper, she walked straight over to him without hesitation.
“Close your eyes.”
Her little hands came up and covered her eyes, but she kept her fingers spread apart, and behind them her eyes were wide open. Will laughed aloud. “You little imp. Here.”
He took the paper off, revealing a child’s parasol. Carefully, he opened it up. It was made of silk and had a beautifully carved bamboo handle. The fabric was a pale green and was covered with four exquisite landscape scenes. Savannah’s hands dropped to her sides, her eyes grew very large, and her mouth opened in a long, silent Oh! Pleased, Will carefully placed it into her hands.
“Oh, Will!” Caroline cried. “That’s beautiful. It’s the perfect color with her hair.” Then she motioned to her daughter. “Come here, Savannah. Let Mama and Papa see it.”
Twirling the parasol like a grown woman on a Sunday walk in the park, Savannah came to her parents, willing to let them look, but not about to let it out of her possession.
“Savannah,” Joshua said, chucking her under the chin, “you’re going to have the most beautiful parasol in all of Nauvoo.”
“I know,” she said matter-of-factly.
“And what do you say to Will, young lady?” Caroline asked.
Savannah started to turn, then realized that hugging her brother with a parasol presented a challenge. Reluctantly she handed it to her mother, then ran to Will and threw her arms around him. She planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Will. It’s beautiful!”
“You’re welcome, Savannah.” As she let him go and returned quickly for her gift, Will looked at Olivia. “Livvy, I had no idea that I would be arriving home on your birthday, or that you would be so grown up. When I left, you were still a girl. Now you’re a young woman.”
Olivia blushed with pleasure. To others, Will’s description would have seemed like a bit of an exaggeration. Now thirteen, she was just starting to mature. But for Olivia, it was the perfect compliment.
“I wasn’t sure what to get for you,” he said. “I looked and looked.” He pulled something out, but kept it low, behind his leg.
Olivia couldn’t bear it. She edged closer. Smiling, Will brought it around, holding it out for her to see. Olivia leaned forward tentatively, not sure exactly what it was, and then she moved closer and took it from him. “Oh, Will!” she said, her voice filled with awe. “It’s beautiful.”
“Let’s see, Livvy,” Savannah cried. Olivia turned
around and walked slowly toward them, peering at her gift. When she reached them, she held it out and they all began to ooh and aah. It was an ebony case with glass panels, about the size of a small loaf of bread in roundness, but only two or three inches thick. Inside the glass, carved out of a soft corkwood, was an intricate three-dimensional Chinese temple and garden. Every detail was perfect. The temple walls were delicately carved latticework. A bridge spanned the pond. Two storks, each no bigger than the fingernail on Olivia’s little finger, stood together in the water.
Caroline looked up at her son. “Where did you ever find such a thing?”
“These are all over in China,” he said, pleased with their reaction. “They are called cork carvings.”
Joshua took it from Olivia to examine it more closely. “I can’t believe the detail.”
“What do you do with it?” Savannah demanded, eyeing it suspiciously.
“You set it on a table or on a dresser and look at it,” Livvy said. And then, realizing another value of the treasure, she added, “And you let other people see what a beautiful thing you have.” She swung around. “Oh, thank you, Will. It’s beautiful. I love it.”
Joshua was still examining it carefully. He looked at Caroline. “I’ll bet you could import these and make a fortune selling them. They are absolutely enchanting.”
Will was fumbling in the bag again. “Now, Mother. I want you and Papa to close your eyes.”
“Will, you didn’t have to bring us anything but you,” Caroline said, but she put her hand over her eyes. Joshua simply closed his.
Putting a finger to his lips, Will motioned Savannah and Olivia over to help him. From out of the bag he drew two small identical boxes. He opened them and took out the two chop carvings, one with a lion carved into the top of the stone cylinder, the other with a dragon. Then he fumbled in the bottom of the bag until he found a piece of paper. The piece of paper had two red circles stamped onto it. Both had a Chinese symbol in the middle, and both had block English letters around the inside of the circle. The one had the letters C-A-R-O-L-I-N-E, the other J-O-S-H-U-A. Will moved to the table near his mother and laid the paper down. Then he placed each chop carving beside its appropriate circle.
The Work and the Glory Page 251
