Why? !!! ???? !!! :( !
I watched Captain's back until he disappeared. Death. He was gone.
Pa held family council, and Helaman was now our oldest brother. Constance gave Ester a comforting hug, and Ma hugged Faith, who was crying silently. I wasn't crying. I was torn. I tried to remind myself. This was just a reenactment, but it felt so real. Captain was gone. My brother was gone.
I stared past Pa's shoulder all the while he talked, hoping there was some mistake and Captain would come back any second. But I knew he wouldn't.
We left his things on the side of the road, and continued on. I took the front, in the place of Ester. I grasped the same section of the bar that Captain had, and pulled.
It was harder without Captain.
It was hard being up front.
But I did it. With Helaman. And with Alma. With my sisters, and with my trek parents.
And then we were instructed by other families to stop. There was a deep ravine ahead of us.
We could see it beyond the next couple family's carts. I abandoned ours to help my friend's carts down and up. The ravine was similar to a V in shape, I was too busy to take more then three or so pictures of it, and none of them show the real steepness of that thing!
When I'd helped a few carts up, I observed the struggle, intentionally looking for Joseph. I saw his cart go through the ravine, but somehow I missed him.
But then, there he was, right next to me. His presence was comforting that moment. We exchanged a few brief words, and then he was off, helping someone's cart up. In the very beginning, they had to figure out how to get the carts down without tipping them over. A flour-bag baby fell out of a cart on the way down and was crushed. Someone tried to grab it, but it was too late. Perhaps before, I didn't care for these flour babies. But now, I could see. I could see what a crushing effect seeing your own baby crushed under the wheels of a wagon could be. I tried to take better care of our flour babies after that.
(This whole sequence, on the movie screen, should have had the long, slow, Come, Come ye saints, no trial nor labor fear...and should we die, before our journey's through, ... though hard to you, this journey may appear, grace shall be, as your day...", slowly, somberly playing under footage of the faces, the struggle, the slow motion.....)
Down, the dirt was soft and loose, it gave way like sand. One Pa, I believe it was a certain one from my ward, brought thick rope, and it proved useful up, but especially down. I helped the last cart up, and when I found my family, they waved me over.
This time I immediately noticed that Helaman was missing.
"Where's Helaman?"
"He went for Ma's contacts when they fell out of the cart, and twisted his ankle when the cart's wheel pushed his foot against a rock."
Faith told me.
If I had lived in the medieval century I would have said, "A pox on fallen things!" But I didn't know anything cursory for the 1800's, so I kept quiet.
"He's at the base now with the doctors." Ma said.
And that was it. We were down to one brother.
Quiet Alma. Alma took the front, and I went to my spot at the back. We rolled into a clearing where everyone else was parked. It was sort of odd, but I guessed we were having another story time.
Our trail boss stood in the middle of the circle, and called the names of the families that had to give up their babies, ( they died of course). He talked a while, about death. About loss and sorrow, trial, tears. The realities of the pioneer trail. The cost of my life and my faith today.
What perfect timing, I thought. we hadn't lost a baby, but we'd lost two brothers, perhaps one would be back shortly, though injured now, but Captain was gone. I felt more sad. Joseph's friend from our ward was sitting next to me, we glanced at each other, but then just as quickly looked away. I could tell he was feeling sad as well. It was soon for me to find out that his oldest brother in his family had died too, and that older brother was my friend.
I had kind of zoned out, thinking about this friend and Captain. Losing people you love, in the midst of the struggle.
But when our trail boss mentioned the resurrection, I suddenly brightened a little. Were we really going to have a resurrection?
And then, of all things to say at that moment, he said, starting first,
" ...there were times when the pioneers took a wrong turn, and had to retrace their steps..."
He couldn't be serious. But then, of course he was.
We went the wrong way!
I watched Captain's back until he disappeared. Death. He was gone.
Pa held family council, and Helaman was now our oldest brother. Constance gave Ester a comforting hug, and Ma hugged Faith, who was crying silently. I wasn't crying. I was torn. I tried to remind myself. This was just a reenactment, but it felt so real. Captain was gone. My brother was gone.
I stared past Pa's shoulder all the while he talked, hoping there was some mistake and Captain would come back any second. But I knew he wouldn't.
We left his things on the side of the road, and continued on. I took the front, in the place of Ester. I grasped the same section of the bar that Captain had, and pulled.
It was harder without Captain.
It was hard being up front.
But I did it. With Helaman. And with Alma. With my sisters, and with my trek parents.
And then we were instructed by other families to stop. There was a deep ravine ahead of us.
We could see it beyond the next couple family's carts. I abandoned ours to help my friend's carts down and up. The ravine was similar to a V in shape, I was too busy to take more then three or so pictures of it, and none of them show the real steepness of that thing!
When I'd helped a few carts up, I observed the struggle, intentionally looking for Joseph. I saw his cart go through the ravine, but somehow I missed him.
But then, there he was, right next to me. His presence was comforting that moment. We exchanged a few brief words, and then he was off, helping someone's cart up. In the very beginning, they had to figure out how to get the carts down without tipping them over. A flour-bag baby fell out of a cart on the way down and was crushed. Someone tried to grab it, but it was too late. Perhaps before, I didn't care for these flour babies. But now, I could see. I could see what a crushing effect seeing your own baby crushed under the wheels of a wagon could be. I tried to take better care of our flour babies after that.
(This whole sequence, on the movie screen, should have had the long, slow, Come, Come ye saints, no trial nor labor fear...and should we die, before our journey's through, ... though hard to you, this journey may appear, grace shall be, as your day...", slowly, somberly playing under footage of the faces, the struggle, the slow motion.....)
Down, the dirt was soft and loose, it gave way like sand. One Pa, I believe it was a certain one from my ward, brought thick rope, and it proved useful up, but especially down. I helped the last cart up, and when I found my family, they waved me over.
This time I immediately noticed that Helaman was missing.
"Where's Helaman?"
"He went for Ma's contacts when they fell out of the cart, and twisted his ankle when the cart's wheel pushed his foot against a rock."
Faith told me.
If I had lived in the medieval century I would have said, "A pox on fallen things!" But I didn't know anything cursory for the 1800's, so I kept quiet.
"He's at the base now with the doctors." Ma said.
And that was it. We were down to one brother.
Quiet Alma. Alma took the front, and I went to my spot at the back. We rolled into a clearing where everyone else was parked. It was sort of odd, but I guessed we were having another story time.
Our trail boss stood in the middle of the circle, and called the names of the families that had to give up their babies, ( they died of course). He talked a while, about death. About loss and sorrow, trial, tears. The realities of the pioneer trail. The cost of my life and my faith today.
What perfect timing, I thought. we hadn't lost a baby, but we'd lost two brothers, perhaps one would be back shortly, though injured now, but Captain was gone. I felt more sad. Joseph's friend from our ward was sitting next to me, we glanced at each other, but then just as quickly looked away. I could tell he was feeling sad as well. It was soon for me to find out that his oldest brother in his family had died too, and that older brother was my friend.
I had kind of zoned out, thinking about this friend and Captain. Losing people you love, in the midst of the struggle.
But when our trail boss mentioned the resurrection, I suddenly brightened a little. Were we really going to have a resurrection?
And then, of all things to say at that moment, he said, starting first,
" ...there were times when the pioneers took a wrong turn, and had to retrace their steps..."
He couldn't be serious. But then, of course he was.
We went the wrong way!
Who was in charge of the compass?
ReplyDeleteAhh! Don't leave me hanging!
ReplyDelete