One Candle

by Gale Sears

“Did you want me to check the translation?”

  “No. This time you may read for pure pleasure and enlightenment.”

  Andrew laughed. “You are a shrewd man, Elder Snow, giving a man of letters a book with an intriguing history.”

  “I was counting on your curiosity.”

  “Well, you will have to come again and we will discuss it.”

  “If there is time. It seems that the Lord is calling me to other places.”

  “You’re leaving us?” Albertina exclaimed. “When? Where are you going?”

  “Elder Woodard and I will leave for Malta in a month or less.”

  “Malta? Elder Woodard too?”

  “Yes, Mademoiselle Guy. We would stay in this glorious land if we could, but the gospel must be preached to the world and the world is a very large place.” He opened his satchel and brought out another book. “A book for you as well.”

  She reached for it slowly. “Really?” He nodded. “Thank you, Elder Snow.”

  “You are welcome. And now I must be on my way.” He hesitated. “I testify that you hold in your hands a sacred book, a second testimony of our Lord Jesus Christ.” He looked directly at Father Andrew. “I testify that it was translated by the gift and power of God. Read it carefully, read it prayerfully, and you will know of its truth.”

  “Albertina and I have always been seekers.”

  “That is what I hear,” Lorenzo said, taking a step back. “I would like to visit again before I leave, if that is acceptable.”

  “It is expected, Elder Snow. Expected.”

  Albertina moved quickly forward. “May I walk with you for a time, Elder Snow? I have questions.”

  “Of course, Mademoiselle Guy. I love your questions.” He waited as Albertina picked up her coat and went to say good-bye to her great-uncle.

  She took his hand and looked fondly into his face. “Old bear.” She leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I see the light shining in your face.” She straightened. “A big breakfast for him today, Father Nathanael.”

  “Bread and plum jam!” Andrew said happily.

  “Yes, you worked hard this morning.” She kissed his forehead and moved off with Elder Snow. “I will see you tomorrow!” she called back.

  “Can I not have a day of rest?”

  “You may rest on Sunday.”

  “Cruel taskmaster,” he grumbled.

  “If she is such a cruel taskmaster,” Father Nathanael questioned, “then why are you smiling?”

  “Never mind! Never mind!” Andrew blustered. “Get me up. I need to go to the water closet, and then to breakfast.”

  “And then to prayers,” Father Nathanael corrected, reaching down to lift him from the chair.

  “Of course, to prayers. Prayers first,” Andrew grunted as he stood. “The first thought of the day—God. The first act of the day—prayer.”

  Father Nathanael put Andrew’s shawl around his shoulders, and took his arm, waiting for the old priest to begin moving. “You are getting stronger every day.”

  “Tchet! Soon you will be telling me that when summer comes I will be hiking over Mount Cenis.” He started forward with determination.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me, honored one. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Torre Pellice

  My dear sister Eliza, February 20, 1852,

  Today I will bid farewell to the valleys of the Piedmont and the people who have come to fill such a large part of my heart. It will be difficult to leave them, but many are looking forward in a year or two to travel to Zion, where we will rejoice together in the fellowship of the gospel. We have not been permitted to preach in public or to distribute our pamphlets or Italian copies of the Book of Mormon, yet we have few left in our possession, and there are nearly one hundred converts to the Church. Italy is not silent under the shackles of spiritual despotism. Many noble sentiments and liberal ideas have been spread through the country by the speeches of honest-hearted men in Parliament who have called loudly for religious freedom, and we trust they will not always call in vain.

  Several Waldensian pastors have attempted to stop the work of salvation with slander, threats, and even physical violence, but the message of the gospel has gone forth and has been heard and embraced by many.

  I know, dear sister, that the Book of Mormon will lend its powerful aid in building up the Church. After many anxieties with regard to that work, it was no small pleasure to find it welcomed by the Saints in Italy as a heavenly treasure, and the translation so highly approved.

  The Waldenese were the first to receive the gospel, but by the press and the exertions of the elders, it will be rolled forth beyond their mountain regions. At this season they are surrounded with snow from three to six feet deep, and in many instances all communication is cut off between the villages. Our labors in such countries will be eminently blessed when we can have persons in the priesthood who are not under the same disadvantages and liabilities as foreign elders—and such are rising up here. The Saints embrace the manifestations of the Spirit, and there are many reports of dreams, visions, and healings.

  Luckily this winter has been mild, and there is only a skiff of snow, so Elder Woodard and I will be traveling by coach to Genoa—indeed, our time of departure is near, so I must be brief. While Elder Toronto will remain in the Piedmont, Elder Woodard and I will be traveling to Malta, where I will stay for a time and then, as circumstances permit, I shall be moving forward to other realms. From whence my next communication will proceed, I cannot say—perhaps from Malta, or the crumbling monuments of ruined Egypt, or the burning climes of India.

  I pray that the Lord may always be with you and with my treasured family. Hold my little ones in your arms and whisper my name in their ears. I must go on with work so my heart does not break in the thinking of them.

  I remain, as ever, your affectionate brother,

  Lorenzo

  Lorenzo perused the letter quickly, blew on it to dry, and placed it in its envelope. He looked out at the lightly falling snow. “Thank you, Father. Grazie per tutto.” He put on his coat, grabbed his bags, and went out to say good-bye to his friends.

  The wind blew Elder Snow’s hat across the courtyard and he ran to secure it. He shoved it back on his head and returned to the gathering of friends and Saints. “Why is it I always seem to be traveling in the winter?”

  “Because, my friend,” Colonel Beckwith offered, “if you tried to leave us at any other time, the beauty of this place would keep you here.”

  “That is true,” Lorenzo said with a nod. “So true. The Piedmont in the spring is a place of enchantment.”

  “Then I wish for spring always,” Madeleine Cardon said. There were mummers of assent throughout the group.

  “I agree with my daughter,” Philippe Cardon added. “Perhaps you should stay and see what the spring is like, and then, if you don’t care for it, you can leave.”

  Lorenzo chuckled. “That is a sly trick.” He looked around at all the dear faces who were part of the miracle of the Piedmont and felt tears press at the back of his throat. He struggled to gain control of his voice. “Thank you. Thank you for your friendship and love.” He looked at his traveling companion. “At this time Malta calls us, but I promise to send Brother Woodard back to you when I embark for other lands of antiquity.” Elder Snow put his hand on John Malan’s shoulder, marveling at the strength of the man and the small band of Saints for whom he was shepherd. “Elder Woodard and I have been awed by your faith—your willingness to try the word of the Lord, your willingness to stand against persecution.” He coughed to clear the huskiness from his voice. “I would stay with you always if I could, but the Lord has called us to other places. And at the end of the journey I am anxious to see the faces of my dear family.” He coughed again. “Now, we have left the mission to our brother in th
e gospel Elder Toronto, and the branch in the loving care of President John Malan.” Lorenzo turned to face him. “Brother Malan, we have such confidence in you. Thank you for your able service.”

  “Thank you for the gospel of Christ,” he returned. “We will work hard and prepare ourselves to come to Zion.”

  Lorenzo nodded. “We will keep track of your progress.” He moved over to Colonel Beckwith, picking up Nellie as he went. The dog rode in his arms as if a little king, which made Lorenzo laugh. He shook the colonel’s hand with vigor. “Colonel, your influence has been a great help to us in this work. Thank you. We esteem you highly, and I know that your name will be spoken of with love among the Waldenese—and the world—for generations to come.”

  “I can easily say the same for you, Elder Snow. But thank you for that. And thank you for putting up with this little mongrel over the years.” Nellie barked and Colonel Beckwith shushed him as Lorenzo handed him over. “Perhaps you will return to the mountains someday.”

  “Perhaps,” Lorenzo returned. He went next to Madeleine Cardon. “And here is our little sister of vision, who dreamed of the coming of the three missionaries. What a day that was when we met you in the meadow.”

  “A day of wonder,” Madeleine said.

  “Wonder indeed,” Lorenzo said, smiling. “And can you see that time of departing for you and your family?”

  Tears welled in Madeleine’s eyes. “It’s not far off,” she said quietly. “As my dream said. We will leave our homes and travel across the wilderness to a place where we will gather with you and the Saints.”

  “That will be a happy day,” he said.

  “A glorious reunion,” Madeleine answered.

  Elder Snow turned his face to the woman standing next to Madeleine. “Albertina Guy. We are so grateful to you and your family for the care and hospitality you gave us when we first arrived in Torre Pellice.”

  “Amen,” Elder Woodard said as he came to Elder Snow’s side. “We saw your family a few weeks ago, but please tell them again of our affection.”

  “I will.”

  “And please remind dear little Joseph that I will be sending him some things from America,” Elder Snow added.

  “He is not likely to forget.”

  Lorenzo laughed. “No, he’s not.”

  Albertina reached into the deep pockets of her coat and brought out two scrolls of parchment. “My great-uncle wanted me to give these to you.” The elders took them with great deference. “He wrote out something special for each of you. For you, Elder Snow, the Declaration of Independence, and for you, Elder Woodard, your Magna Carta.” She smiled at the stunned looks on the elders’ faces. “He did them in Italian so you will be able to practice the beautiful language.”

  Elder Woodard shook his head. “This is a treasure. A true treasure.”

  The press of tears at the back of Lorenzo’s throat increased. “Please, tell him we are honored by his gift. He is one of the most remarkable men I have ever met.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  Lorenzo nodded. “Good. Good.” He took a breath to calm his emotions, and turned his full attention to Albertina. “Before I leave, I wish to promise you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “Put your trust in the Lord, Albertina. You may not be able to see the way as yet, but the Lord knows all. Trust in Him, continue to honor your parents and your great-uncle, and the time will come when hearts will be softened. Do you understand this?” She nodded. “Good.” He looked around at the gathering—taking in each precious face. “Until we meet again, my friends.” There followed a chorus of well-wishes as the two missionaries made their way to the coach and the rest followed.

  Albertina and Madeleine lagged behind, each feeling the sting of parting acutely, and not wishing to be part of the larger emotion. They waved from a distance as the coach pulled away.

  “At least you will see him again,” Albertina said, wiping the tears from her face.

  “Remember what Elder Snow said, Albertina.”

  “What?”

  “You may not be able to see the way as yet, but the Lord knows all.” Albertina nodded. “And now,” Madeleine continued, “I think we should go to see your great-uncle, sit in the warm library, and tell him all about the parting and what the elders said and how much they loved his gift to them.”

  “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea,” Albertina agreed. “And perhaps he’ll give us bread and currant jam.”

  The two friends began walking quickly towards the monastery.

  “And perhaps there’s another book to read!” Madeleine said excitedly.

  “There is always another book to read!” Albertina called out into the snowy morning. “Always another book!”

  Note

  The major part of the letter Elder Snow wrote to Eliza are the actual words taken from his journal.

  Epilogue

  Torre Pellice

  February 8, 1854

  Albertina Guy and Madeleine Cardon stood inside the Waldensian temple, looking at the simple wooden plaque with its depiction of a lighted candle and seven stars. Lux Lucent in Tenebris. “The light which shineth in darkness.” Albertina glanced up and noted the pale winter sunlight casting a faint glow on the high windows. Her fingers ached and her breath came out in white puffs.

  “I thought I would be married here,” Madeleine said.

  “Really?” Albertina questioned, looking over at her friend. “I pictured you in the high valley with wildflowers in your hair.”

  “Oh, that would have been lovely,” Madeleine answered, loneliness and loss creeping into her voice.

  Albertina took her hand. “Don’t worry, you will find a wonderful man in the wilderness of America.”

  “Do you think?”

  “Of course. Perhaps one of the sons of Brigham Young.”

  “Don’t tease me.”

  “I’m not. All you will have to do is sing to them and they will fall at your feet.”

  Madeleine decided to change the subject. “It’s hard to believe that Elder Snow left nearly two years ago, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Albertina replied.

  “And now the first group of Waldenese are following,” Madeleine said, taking Albertina’s hand. “Well, the first group of Waldenese plus one brave friend.”

  The door to the temple opened and Philippe Cardon stepped inside. “It’s time, girls.” The two swallowed down sadness and anxiety and followed him out.

  After the dimness of the church, the brighter outside light made them squint, and it was several moments before Albertina’s eyes adjusted and she could see people milling about the three sleighs. Colonel Beckwith was helping the men load the last of the luggage as Nellie cavorted at their feet. The women were making sure their families were nearby and that the quilts and blankets were sufficient for the journey. John Malan Senior leaned on his cane and watched his son organize the assembly while Jean Cardon called out to Madeleine when she emerged from the church.

  “Oh! My grandfather is here!” Madeleine said. She let go of Albertina’s hand and hurried to embrace her loved one.

  Albertina walked to her mother and father. She noted that her brother, Joseph, stood stoically at his father’s side, focusing on the movements of the horse teams, and refusing to glance in her direction. Albertina searched for the one face that would bring her some reassurance, but he was not present.

  “He is old, Albertina. He will not be here,” her father said, as if reading her thoughts.

  “I know.” She turned to her family. “I am glad you came,” she said. “I know this has not been easy.” She tenderly ruffled Joseph’s hair and he swatted at her hand. “For any of you.”

  “You are a woman now,” her father said. “You will make your own choices.” The words should have been comforting, but Albertina found no solace in his dis
appointed tone.

  “But you promised you wouldn’t go. You promised all of us,” Joseph protested.

  Albertina had tried to prepare her emotions for the bitter sorrow she knew this day would bring, but the look on Joseph’s face wounded her heart. She knelt down in front of him and he avoided her eyes. “Look at me, dear one. Please.” Finally he looked at her, holding on to his irritability as a protection. “I am grown now, and I must find my own way in life,” she began. “And though it is very hard, I must go where the Lord directs me.” She tied his scarf more snugly around his neck. “That does not mean that I will forget you or lose connection with you.”

  “But you will. You are going far away.”

  “Yes, but I will write to you and send you things, and perhaps I will come back to visit—or you could come to America to see me.”

  “Do not give him false hope,” Francesca said.

  Albertina stood. “We do not know what’s in store for any of us.”

  “No, we do not. But I doubt that America holds any part of our future.”

  “Can we not keep our hearts open?” Albertina pleaded. Her mother did not answer. “Mother?”

  The voice of John Malan lifted above the noise and chaos. “Everyone? Everyone, please gather to me for instruction and prayer.”

  “She is forsaking us,” Joseph said as she walked away.

  Albertina crossed her arms in front of her and felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. When she reached the group she maneuvered her way to Madeleine.

  “Everything is loaded,” Madeleine whispered. “We will soon be on our way.”

  Albertina noted the excitement in her voice and felt a twinge of jealousy. Of course she’s excited, she thought. She will have her entire family with her.

  President Malan waited for the murmur of voices to quiet. “Today is not only a momentous day but a day of reflection. Why did the Mormon missionaries come into the valleys of the Waldenese? Why did their message bring such clarity concerning the primitive church? And why did our hearts respond with such favor to their words? Like the beloved mountains around us, we are firmly planted in the restored gospel, and as testimony to that faith, today the first group of converts will leave for Zion: the Cardon family, the Pons family, and the Bertoch family. And with them will go the courageous Albertina Guy.” Several in the company reached out and laid a hand briefly on her shoulder, but instead of the gesture fortifying her conviction, Albertina felt a chill of apprehension. She was glad when President Malan began speaking again. “I will give you instruction and then we will have a prayer. You have your course set from here to Turino, then over Mount Cenis, and finally to Geneva, Switzerland, where you will be met by Elder Stenhouse. He will accompany you to Liverpool, where you will meet up with Elder Woodard. He has been in England for a time and will meet you in the port city for the express purpose to help with preparations and language. He will then travel with you to New Orleans, America.” The members of the company shared looks of relief.