The Work and the Glory (90 page)

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Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

BOOK: The Work and the Glory
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Mary Ann was still finding furnishings as best she could, so the parlor was still bare except for three wooden chairs Benjamin had purchased from the Whitney store. The sitting room, where they spent most of their time when not in the kitchen, had a sofa and a high-backed stuffed chair. Against her better judgment—guests should always be received in the parlor—Mary Ann had agreed that they would meet in the sitting room.

There was a knock at the door. Melissa was up in an instant. Mary Ann smiled. “Your father will get it, Melissa.”

“I know, I know.” She hurried to the kitchen door and looked into the entryway. “Papa?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” The grumbling voice came from the bedroom where her parents slept. Melissa waited for a moment; then when her father still didn’t appear, she swung around. “Mama, maybe you’d better go.”

“I’ll get it,” Matthew cried, getting up from his chair.

“You will not!” Melissa cried. “You and Becca are to stay in the kitchen. Do you hear?”

Becca stuck out her lower lip. “I want to hear,” she pouted.

Melissa gave her sister her sternest look. “I’ll tell you everything later. You stay here.”

The knock sounded again.

“Mama!” Melissa was pleading. But at that moment the bedroom door opened and her father came out. He was smoothing down his hair, which he had wet from the bowl of water on the dresser and brushed hard to make it stay down. Melissa hurried and shut the kitchen door as her father walked past and moved to the front entrance.

“You look lovely, Melissa,” Mary Ann whispered. She was suddenly having very tender feelings for this oldest daughter of theirs whom they were about to lose. She had on a long dress of deep pink, which showed off her dark eyes and fair skin wonderfully. A ribbon of matching color pulled her black hair back away from her face.

If Melissa heard, she gave no sign. She was listening intently at the door. There was the murmur of voices, and then the front door shut firmly. Melissa couldn’t bear it. She swung around. “Oh, Mama, do you think Papa will be nice?”

Mary Ann finally stood and moved to her daughter’s side. “Yes, dear,” she soothed. “Believe it or not, your father can really be quite charming when he wants to. Now, what say you and I make our entry and find out if this young man of yours is here for what we think he’s here for.”

“You’re not Mormon, are you?”

Carlton Rogers blinked, but Melissa’s jaw dropped a little. She shot a glance at her mother, who was also staring at Benjamin. If he noted the effect his question had on his wife and daughter, he gave no sign of it.

“I beg your pardon?” Carl Rogers blushed deeply, the effect of which was heightened all the more because of his red hair and freckles.

“You’re not a member of the Mormon church?”

“No, sir.” The oldest son of the owner of Kirtland’s largest livery stable had recovered his composure.

“You know that Melissa is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Papa!”

Benjamin turned to Melissa and waved her off with his eyes.

Mustering his courage now, Carl answered. “Bother me, sir? Why should it? Melissa and I have discussed it thoroughly.”

“Well, as you know, there are some people in the area who have taken it into their heads that Mormons are a threat to their way of life, or at least to their religion. There’s already been articles in the newspapers.”

“Yes, sir, I’m aware of that.”

“Do your parents know that Melissa is a Mormon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Does that bother them?”

“Not that they’ve said. They very much like your daughter, sir.”

“Hmm.” Benjamin sat back, giving the boy a long, careful appraisal. Melissa looked to her mother, her eyes beseeching her to intervene. But her mother was almost in as much shock as Melissa that Benjamin Steed was pursuing this line of questioning.

Carl smiled briefly at Melissa, then turned back to her father. “You’re not a Mormon yourself, are you, sir?”

Benjamin’s left eyebrow lifted slowly. “No,” he finally said.

“But your wife and children are?”

“Yes.”

“Does that bother you, sir?”

Benjamin’s mouth opened, then shut again. Melissa almost clapped her hands with the joy of seeing her father nonplussed. And she could have hugged Carl for being bold enough to answer back. Then in panic she focused her eyes on her father. If Carl made him angry, it would not be a good thing.

For several moments, the room was in complete silence, the only sound being that of a wagon rattling past outside the window. Then Ben’s eyes seemed to soften, and Melissa read begrudging admiration there. “No, not anymore,” her father finally said.

Carl took a deep breath, and his face grew red again. “Then, sir, if I may, I would like to ask you and your wife if I may have the hand of your daughter in marriage.”

For the first time during the interview, Melissa’s mother spoke. “May I ask you a question, Carl?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Do you love my daughter?”

He leaned forward, his eyes filled with relief. Here was a question he was more comfortable with. “I sure do!”

Melissa felt her heart melt as she looked at him. It thrilled her that he felt that way too.

“Will you treat her right?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Benjamin watched him for several moments, his face impassive. Melissa held her breath, then felt a tremendous surge of relief when she saw the corners of her father’s mouth relax. Finally, he was smiling at her. “Is this the man you want to spend your life with, Melissa?”

She nodded quickly, her heart feeling as though it were going to burst. “Yes, Papa.”

“Then it seems like that’s what ought to happen.” He stood and walked to Carl, hand outstretched.

It was the second day of August in the year of our Lord, one thousand eight hundred and thirty-one. It was a bright and glorious morning. A flock of crows was circling above the river some distance away, and their faint cawing joined in with the ever-present hum of a thousand honeybees busily servicing the dozen or more varieties of wildflowers that dotted the prairie landscape.

Nathan Steed stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Jessica Roundy Steed, who was flanked on the opposite side by Brother and Sister Lewis. Nathan was aware of the heat of the sun on his back, but his mind was on Jessica. It still felt strange to think that this quiet, resolute woman standing next to him was his sister-in-law. This was Joshua’s wife.

It had been the hardest thing Nathan had ever done in his life when he sat down and wrote to his mother about Joshua and Jessica and what had happened. When the letter was posted, from that moment on Nathan had not spoken Joshua’s name aloud again.

“Would the elders please step forward.”

Gratefully, Nathan let his thoughts pull away from Joshua and back to the proceedings. The small group—close to a hundred, counting the older children who were present—was gathered in a half circle in front of a small patch of ground that had been cleared of its grass. The largest body was, of course, those who had recently arrived from the East. There were nearly sixty in the Colesville Branch group. Another half dozen had been in Joseph’s party. The rest of the group consisted of new families baptized during the past several months by Oliver and his missionary companions.

Several men stepped forward, faces long with solemnity. Joseph led out, followed by Sidney Rigdon, Martin Harris, and Oliver Cowdery. Newel Knight, president of the Colesville Branch, stepped forward, as did his father, Joseph Knight, one of Joseph’s earliest supporters.

Joseph stopped at the end of a long, freshly trimmed log cut from the timber near the river. Nathan counted quickly. There were twelve men, all elders in the Church. Joseph reached inside his breech coat and took out a folded piece of paper. After unfolding it, he had to hold it in both hands to stop it from flapping in the sharp breeze that was blowing.

“Brothers and sisters,” he called, lifting his voice against the wind, “before we ever left Kirtland, the Lord promised that if we would gather to Missouri he would reveal to us the place where Zion was to be located.”

An expectant hush fell over the group.

“Well, as you know, the Lord has kept his word. I received the following revelation the day after Martin and I and the others arrived here in Jackson County. I would like to read again to you the word of the Lord on the matter.”

He found his place, then began to read in a loud, clear voice. “ ‘Hearken, O ye elders of my church, saith the Lord your God, who have assembled yourselves together, according to my commandments, in this land, which is the land of Missouri, which is the land which I have appointed and consecrated for the gathering of the saints.’”

He paused, then read more slowly and with greater emphasis. “ ‘Wherefore, this is the land of promise, and the place for the city of Zion. And thus saith the Lord your God, if you will receive wisdom here is wisdom. Behold, the place which is now called Independence is the center place; and a spot for the temple is lying westward, upon a lot which is not far from the courthouse.’”

He looked up. “On the morrow, we shall go to that site. It is at the knoll of the hill about half a mile west of the courthouse. There we shall dedicate the land for the building of the temple of the city of Zion, the New Jerusalem.”

Nathan looked at Jessica and they smiled at each other. A temple on the earth again! The other night, around an open camp fire, Joseph had spoken of the prophets of old and how they had foreseen the days when Zion would again be built upon the earth. Prophecies millennia old were being fulfilled, and they were here to be witness to it. Nathan felt like crying and he felt like shouting aloud. It was a glorious day.

Joseph lowered the paper and put it back inside his coat. He let his eyes sweep across the crowd. “So it is, on this day, we are gathered to lay the first log for the first house built by the Saints on the land of Zion. Twelve of us—all elders of God, called and ordained of him to carry forth his work in the latter days—will carry and put this log in place. And why are there twelve?” He paused, letting his question hang in the air. Then he nodded slowly. “Because we represent the twelve tribes of Israel, whose gathering together again has now begun.”

As one, the men bent over and lifted the weight of the log. There was a soft grunt or two, though Jessica could not tell from which men they came. They moved forward slowly, coming to the shallow trench which had been dug to receive it. They stopped. “With the laying of this log,” Joseph said loudly, “we hereby signify that we are laying the foundation of Zion.” He nodded and they lowered their burden and placed it carefully in place.

Instantly there were murmurs of approval. Some of the children clapped excitedly, and the group erupted into a spontaneous cheer. Several of the women were weeping.

The men returned to their places. “Brother Sidney,” Joseph said, turning to his companion.

Sidney stepped forward. He looked over the crowd with great solemnity, then took a breath. “My brothers and sisters,” he called loudly, “do you receive this land for the land of your inheritance with thankful hearts from the Lord?”

Nathan’s thoughts suddenly turned to Lydia, and he wished she could be standing here with him at this sacred moment. “We do!” The group said it firmly, their voices in unison.

“Do you pledge yourselves to keep the law of God in this land which you never have kept in your own lands?”

“We do!”

“Do you pledge yourselves to see that others of your brethren who shall come hither do keep the laws of God?”

The answer went up a notch in volume. “We do!”

“Then, let us pray.”

All heads bowed instantly, and the men swept off their hats. Sidney dropped to his knees and began to pray. It was a prayer of supplication, beseeching the Lord for his blessings on the little group of Saints gathered in response to his commands. But it was far more than that. It was a prayer of dedication. He described the beauty of the land on which they had gathered. He thanked the Lord for revealing the location of the city of Zion. And then he dedicated the land for the gathering of the Saints from across the nation and from around the world. Sidney was a master orator, but this was a prayer sprung from the depths of his heart. It was profoundly moving, and Nathan found himself stirred more deeply than he had ever been before.

Finally, Brother Rigdon was finished. He arose slowly, and the men in the congregation replaced their hats. Nathan glanced across to Jessica, curious as to what was going through her mind. Tomorrow they would travel the short distance to the Big Blue River and Nathan would baptize her. Sensing his look, Jessica turned and smiled.

Sidney’s eyes moved from face to face. Finally he spoke again. “I now pronounce this land consecrated and dedicated unto the Lord for a possession and inheritance for the Saints, and for all the faithful servants of the Lord to the remotest ages of time. In the name of Jesus Christ, having authority from him. Amen.”

“Amen!” With a hundred voices, the sound rolled across the prairie like distant thunder. Jessica’s voice was raised as clearly as any of the rest.

As Sidney stepped back into his place, Joseph faced the group again. His voice was very solemn now. “My dear brothers and sisters, this is a historic occasion. After centuries of neglect and abandonment, the time has come at last for Zion to be redeemed. We are privileged to be chosen as part of those who shall see it come to pass.”

Amen!
Nathan felt like shouting praises of hallelujah and amens over and over. Joseph was exactly right. How many of the ancients had looked forward in vision and envied them the privilege of bringing forth Zion?

Joseph’s voice brought him back to the present. “But as glorious as that privilege may be, it will not be without it’s challenges.” Again he reached in his coat pocket, this time to bring out another sheaf of papers. His eyes hooded for a moment as he opened them and glanced down.

“Yesterday I received the following from the Lord,” Joseph said slowly. “I shall read only the first part now, though there is much of value here that I shall share with you at a later time.” He opened the papers, using both hands to keep them from rippling in the breeze.

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