Pillar of Light

by Gerald N. Lund

  But they had quickly been dashed again. The Taylors were kind enough, but offered them nothing more than a place to leave their baggage while they found a room. They had found lodging and the next morning set out to find a place to preach. That had been over eight hours ago now. They had visited more than a dozen ministers, asking if they might preach to their congregations or at least hold meetings in their church houses. They had been to the civic offices and sought permission to preach in the marketplaces. And they had been to the courthouse and asked for the use of that building. But word of the Mormons had already reached Toronto. The response had ranged from cool politeness to blunt rejection, and the bottom line was that no one was going to give them the opportunity to preach. It had been a long day. Nathan’s feet hurt, his calves ached abominably, and he was tired of being treated as though they were anathema.

  Parley finally spoke. “We had better return to the Taylors’ and get our belongings as we promised.”

  “But what shall we do, Parley? After steamer passage and our board and room last night, we are out of funds. Where shall we stay?”

  Parley pulled his coat closer around him. The sun was low in the sky, and the air was already losing its earlier warmth. “I do not know, Nathan. This is surely a rather unpromising beginning. What more can we do?”

  Nathan had no answer for that either, and for several minutes they trudged on in silence. Suddenly Parley stopped. They were nearing a stand of pine trees where there were no houses. Nathan walked on for several steps before he realized that his companion had fallen behind him. He stopped and turned. “What?”

  “We are being fools again, Brother Nathan.”

  Nathan laughed without mirth. “That wouldn’t surprise me, Parley. That wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

  Parley laughed now too, only with real enthusiasm. “Do you remember me ever talking about my promissory notes?”

  Nathan shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Parley got a faraway look in his eyes. “Around the beginning of 1830, Thankful and I started a list of what I called the Lord’s promissory notes.”

  “What do you mean by a promissory note?”

  His eyes half closed as he quoted softly. “ ‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.’ ‘Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.’ ”

  Nathan was nodding. “Yes, I see what you mean.”

  “That’s when we decided to sell our farm. It was while Thankful and I were coming east to ‘collect’ on those notes that I felt impressed to get off the canal boat in Newark. Within hours after that, I had the Book of Mormon in my hand.” He looked directly at Nathan. “The Lord’s promises are sure.”

  “I believe that too, Parley.”

  “Well, I have found others since then. In the Book of Mormon. In the Doctrine and Covenants. There’s one in the Doctrine and Covenants that may apply to our circumstance right now.”

  “What is that?”

  “I can’t quote it exactly, but it was given by the Lord when some of the elders were returning from their missions. The Lord said something like this: ‘Go forth and proclaim the gospel, and I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and mine angels shall be round about you to bear you up, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts.’ ”

  Nathan was looking at his companion with open shame. “We haven’t really trusted in him yet today, have we?”

  Parley shook his head, then gestured toward the trees. “Shall we?”

  They found a secluded spot, hidden from sight of the roadway. Parley smoothed a place for them with his foot, then they both dropped to their knees. He looked to Nathan. “Would you petition the Lord in our behalf?”

  Nathan nodded, then bowed his head. But for a moment he did not close his eyes. He let his thoughts turn heavenward, trying to push down the frustrations and discouragement that filled him.

  Then he started inwardly. Today is April nineteenth. The thought popped into his mind unbidden. He felt instant shame. Just a little over two weeks ago he had been sitting in the Kirtland Temple. Within a few feet of where he sat, the Savior had appeared to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery. The Savior! How quickly we forget!

  Moses had come too. “I give you the keys of the gathering of Israel,” Moses had told Joseph and Oliver. Wasn’t that the reason why he and Parley were here in Canada, to help restore scattered Israel? And now they were discouraged? They were questioning whether God could fulfill his word. The very blessing Heber C. Kimball had given Parley was a promissory note! In deep shame, Nathan closed his eyes, and began to pray.

  * * *

  John Taylor was a very distinguished-looking man. He was nearly six feet tall and carried himself with an erectness that gave him a natural dignity. Born in England, he had not lost his distinct British accent. That, added to his tendency to speak with deliberation, always choosing his words carefully, gave him an air of nobility that was most impressive. Not yet thirty, he was dignified without being stiff, affable without being frivolous. Unfortunately, he had heard numerous unfavorable tales of Joseph Smith and the gold Bible.

  So when the two young men from Ohio returned for their baggage, though he was a little disappointed they had been treated so shabbily, he still showed no inclination to help. His wife, Leonora, a lovely woman of considerable grace and charm, seemed more distressed by what had happened. Several glances passed between husband and wife as Parley related the experiences of the day, and Nathan sensed that she was ready to offer their home to the two missionaries. But her husband gave her no encouragement, and so she said nothing. He would treat the Mormons courteously, but he would not provide them a place from which they could carry on their work.

  After hearing their report, Mr. Taylor took them into the back bedroom where they had left their belongings. As they came out, Mr. Taylor softened a little. He seemed a little chagrined at his intransigence. As they reentered the hallway, he again began questioning Parley about the ministers they had visited and their responses to the two Mormons.

  Nathan went on down the hall a few steps to wait. He could tell that Parley was hoping this meant Mr. Taylor was changing his mind, but Nathan didn’t believe it would happen. A gentleman through and through, John Taylor was simply trying to soften the blow a little.

  A rap on the front door brought Nathan’s attention away from the two men. He heard footsteps. Mrs. Taylor came from the kitchen to the entry hall. There was the sound of an opening door, then an exclamation of pleased surprise. Another woman’s voice could be heard. Still half-focused on Parley and Mr. Taylor’s conversation, Nathan also listened idly to the exchange between Mrs. Taylor and her visitor. Suddenly he leaned forward. Mrs. Taylor’s voice was carrying clearly down the hall. “Oh, Mrs. Walton, I am so glad to see you, particularly at this moment.”

  The other woman seemed surprised. “Why is that?”

  “Because we have two gentlemen visiting with us from the United States. They say the Lord has sent them to this city to preach the gospel. They’ve spent the day applying in vain to the clergy and the various authorities for an opportunity to fill their mission. Now they are about to depart.”

  Nathan edged closer to the arched opening that led into the sitting room, feeling only partially guilty for trying to eavesdrop.

  “These men may be men of God,” Mrs. Taylor was continuing. “I feel sorry they have to leave.”

  “How remarkable!” said the unseen Mrs. Walton. “Now I understand the feelings and the spirit which brought me to your house at this time.”

  Nathan was waving at Parley behind his back. Parley evidently saw him, for the two men fell silent. Now the conversation going on in the next room carried clearly to them as well.

  “What do you mean?” Mrs. Taylor asked.

  “I have
been busy doing the wash today. Bending over the tub all day had made me weary, so I felt as though I needed to take a walk. I decided to follow that feeling and thought I should visit my sister, on the other side of town. But as I passed your door, the Spirit bade me go in. I thought to myself, ‘I shall, on my way back from my sister’s house.’ But then the Spirit spoke clearly. ‘Go in now,’ it said. So I did.”

  Nathan turned. Mr. Taylor and Parley had now moved up quietly to join him and were listening intently.

  Mrs. Walton spoke again. “Now I understand why I am here, and I am thankful I have followed the promptings I received. You tell those men I am a widow, but I have a spare room and bed, and food aplenty. They shall have a home at my house, and two large rooms which they can use to preach in as they wish.”

  Nathan felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Parley smiling at him. Nathan reached up and gripped his arm, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

  “You tell those men,” Mrs. Walton said clearly, “you tell them I will send my son John to pilot them to my house. In the meantime, I shall gather up my friends and relatives to hear them preach this very night. I feel, dear Mrs. Taylor, that you are exactly right. These are men of God, and the Lord has sent them to us with a message that will do us good.”

  True to her word, Mrs. Walton returned and immediately sent her son to escort the two missionaries to her home while she spread the word that there would be a meeting there later that evening. When Parley and Nathan arrived they were welcomed warmly. They were given one of her best rooms and an ample and most welcome supper.

  Now the hour had arrived. They were seated around a large table. Mrs. Walton’s parlor was nearly filled to overflowing. Mrs. Walton stood. The conversation died out immediately, and all turned to look at her. She smiled at the group, her eyes resting for a moment on each one. “Thank you all for coming. I am pleased to introduce to you Mr. Parley Pratt and Mr. Nathan Steed, from the United States. They have come to Canada to preach the gospel and have been looking for someone willing to hear their message.”

  She turned to Parley. “Mr. Pratt, there is a small group here in Toronto who have, for some years, been meeting together on a regular basis to search the scriptures. We have been anxiously looking for some providential event which would gather the sheep into one fold, build up the true church as in days of old, and prepare the humble followers of the Lamb, now scattered and divided, to receive their coming Lord when he shall descend to reign on the earth.”

  Parley nodded soberly. “That is most commendable, Mrs. Walton.”

  “As soon as Leonora Taylor spoke of you being there in her house, I felt assured, as by a strange and unaccountable presentiment, that you were messengers with important tidings on these subjects. I was constrained to invite you here. Now, here we are, and we anxiously await your words.”

  Parley stood slowly, then bowed slightly to their hostess. “Thank you, Mrs. Walton. I believe you will see that the presentiment of which you speak was none other than the influence of the Holy Spirit, and that you will be blessed for following its promptings.”

  As usual, Parley wasted no time in idle conversation but went right to the task at hand. In moments he briefly recounted the story of Joseph Smith and told of angelic messengers bringing back the priesthood and its keys to the earth again. He testified of ancient scripture being restored and the blessings of having additional volumes of God’s word. No one spoke. Every eye was fixed upon him as he then told them that the Church of Jesus Christ had been restored to the earth again with the same organization and ordinances that were established when Christ was on the earth.

  Parley stopped, letting his eyes scan the group. “I myself have been ordained an Apostle and commissioned to go forth among the peoples of the world, to minister the baptism of repentance for remission of sins in the name of Jesus Christ. Brother Steed and I are also commissioned to administer the gift of the Holy Ghost, to heal the sick, to comfort those who mourn, to bind up the brokenhearted, and to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”

  Mrs. Walton was sitting right beside Parley. Now he turned so he could more easily face her, but still he did not look down at her. “My companion and I were directed to this city by the Spirit of the Lord, with a promise that we should find here a people prepared to receive the gospel. But when we came and were rejected by all parties, we were about to leave this city.”

  Now finally he looked down at Mrs. Walton. When she saw him looking at her with those piercing eyes, she looked away quickly, embarrassed by his attention. Now Parley’s voice softened, and he spoke more slowly. “But then the Lord sent a widow, at the very moment we were preparing to depart, and thus my companion and I have been cared for like Elijah of old.” He smiled gently. “And now, dear Sister Walton, I bless your house, and all your family and kindred in His name. Your sins shall be forgiven you. You shall understand and obey the gospel, and be filled with the Holy Ghost.”

  Her eyes were shining when she finally looked up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then immediately she turned to look at the circle of rapt listeners. One by one they began to nod. Satisfied, she turned back to Parley. “Well, Mr. Pratt, this is precisely the message we were waiting for. We believe your words and are desirous to be baptized.”

  Nathan caught himself as he realized his mouth had dropped open and he was gaping at Mrs. Walton. Again several heads around the table were bobbing up and down to signify their agreement. But that was nothing compared to the shock he received next. Parley smiled around at the group, but he was shaking his head. “It is your duty and privilege to be baptized. But wait a little while until we have the opportunity to teach the others with whom you are religiously affiliated, so that you may all partake of the blessing together.”

  * * *

  The next morning was gray and overcast, the humidity putting a definite chill in the air even though it was the third week in April. They had stayed up well past midnight answering questions from the group Mrs. Walton had gathered, and Nathan and Parley showed signs of having had little sleep. But nothing could dampen the spirits of the two missionaries as they joined the Walton family for morning prayer and an excellent breakfast fare.

  Nathan watched Mrs. Walton closely to see if she was feeling any disappointment over Parley’s suggestion that she delay her baptism. But she greeted them with enthusiasm, and the moment grace had been said over the food, she turned to the two elders. “Mr. Pratt, Mr. Steed. Would you mind if I asked you a question?”

  “Of course not,” Parley boomed, spearing a thick piece of sausage onto his plate.

  “Last night you spoke of your commission.”

  “Yes.”

  “You are both elders in the Church?”

  Parley seemed reticent to take the lead this morning and looked to Nathan.

  “Yes,” Nathan said, “both Brother Pratt and I hold the office of elder in the Melchizedek Priesthood.”

  She nodded quickly, pressing on. “In the book of James it says, ‘Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord.’ ” She hesitated now, not wanting to appear to be too forward. “Last night Brother Pratt spoke of healing the sick. Is that part of your commission too?”

  Nathan smiled. “You know your Bible well, Mrs. Walton. Yes, we believe that the authority given to us includes the privilege of laying hands on the sick.”

  John Walton, who was nearly sixteen, had been following the conversation closely. Now he spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs to his mother. “Are you thinking of Widow Compton, Ma?”

  His mother nodded firmly, then turned back to her guests. “Would you consider visiting her this morning? She is a dear friend and in such need.” She looked first to Nathan, then to Parley.

  Parley set down his fork. “But of course. Tell us more about her.”

  “She is a woman who has met more than her share of tragedy. Her husband died of cholera about two
years ago. She has four little children to support and was forced to resort to teaching school in order to care for them.”

  Nathan thought of some of the widows he had known, frontier farmers’ wives who could barely read and write themselves. “She was fortunate to have enough learning to qualify as a teacher.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Walton agreed. “Except now even that is taken from her.”

  “She’s gone blind!” little twelve-year-old Laura chimed in.

  “Yes,” John said, clucking his tongue. “She’s totally blind.”

  * * *

  When the raging inflammation struck both of Mrs. Compton’s eyes at the same time, within days the pain was so intense and the swelling so complete that she was totally unable to see. No longer able to teach school, she and her children became public wards, cared for by the Methodist society as best their meager means would allow. The economic havoc the disability had wreaked on the family was evident the moment Laura turned the two missionaries in at the tiny house in a poorer section of Toronto. The yard was cluttered with discarded furniture and tools. The door hung loosely from rusty hinges. Dirty sheets and blankets hung at each of the windows. From inside came the faint sound of a young child screaming its lungs out. There was a deeper voice, the words not quite intelligible but seeming to direct someone to help the child.

  Nathan looked at Parley, who merely shook his head slowly. If Laura Walton was shocked by the situation, she gave no sign of it. She walked right up to the door, banged twice on it sharply, then immediately opened it and stuck her head inside. “Mrs. Compton,” she called cheerfully, “it’s Laura Walton. My mother has asked me to bring someone to see you.”