“Who, us?” he asked innocently. Then he shook his head. “I just came from Joshua’s house. You can thank someone that the weather is nice, because we already have more people than the house can hold.”
“We do?” Kathryn asked.
“Yes. I’d say there’s over a hundred at least, not counting family. They are waiting to accompany us to the river for the baptism.”
“A hundred!” Alice gasped. “But . . .”
He grinned. “We Steeds don’t take days and days to get the word out. Twelve hours’ notice is more than sufficient.” He got a chair, brought it over, and set it beside Kathryn’s wheelchair and motioned for Alice to sit. As she did so, he retrieved another chair and set it down a few feet in front of the two of them. Then he made one last trip. The sitting room in Benjamin and Mary Ann’s home had been turned into the brides’s preparation room. He moved to the lamp table in the corner, the one that sat beside his favorite chair, and he took the Bible from it, then came back over and sat down.
For several moments, he looked at the book, rubbing his fingers lightly over the black leather cover. Finally, his head came up. His face was soft, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth deepening with the love that filled his heart. “There are some things I wanted to say to you two while we’re alone and before we start this very hectic day.” He laughed softly. “I thought I’d better do it where no one but you can see me getting all weepy-like.”
Instantly he knew he had made a mistake, because even as he spoke, tears sprang to his eyes. And just as quickly, both Alice and Kathryn were blinking back their own tears. He swallowed quickly, and then went on in a voice strained by his attempts to stop it from breaking. “I don’t need to tell you that in every single respect, Mary Ann and I consider you as our own flesh and blood. So do the rest of the family.”
They both nodded, not trusting their voices either.
“Kathryn has been part of the family now for several years. Alice has become one of us just in the last few months. But you are family. You are . . .” He stopped again, and finally shook his head. “You are family.”
He straightened, cleared his throat, brushed quickly at the corner of one eye with the back of his hand. “Now, if you’ll forgive an old man, I have a couple of things I’d like to say. First, to Kathryn.”
She nodded, leaning forward slightly, surprised at how the joy inside her could actually make her hurt when she tried to hold it in.
“There are times when life makes you wonder. Things happen—terrible things sometimes—and you start to question why God allows it. When tragedy strikes we often come to one of two conclusions. We decide that we must have done something very wrong and God is punishing us, or that he isn’t pleased with us—”
Kathryn was nodding gravely.
“Or we want to blame God for letting it happen.”
“I did that too,” she said slowly. “Sometimes I wanted to shake my fist at the heavens and demand to know why. Why me?”
“I understand. But the way you have handled it has been a wonderful example to all of us, Kathryn.”
She shook her head, flushing a little under the directness of his praise. “I’m not much of an example,” she murmured.
“Oh, but you are, Kathryn,” Alice exclaimed. “You were one of the main reasons why I decided I wanted to become a member of the Church.”
Kathryn turned to her in wonder. “Really?”
“Yes. Someday I hope my faith will be as strong as yours.”
“If only you knew,” she murmured. “I’m a long ways from perfection.”
Benjamin chuckled. “I’ve noticed that too. Which brings me to what I want to say to you, Kathryn.”
She pulled a deep frown. “Uh-oh.”
He smiled at her. It was brief and fleeting, for he was quite serious now. “When I marry you and Peter in a few minutes, I’m going to use one word several times. It is the word cherish. Cherish is more than love. It is a stronger, deeper feeling. When you cherish something, it becomes a treasure to you, more important than almost anything else.”
“Yes?” She looked a little puzzled now.
“I am going to charge both you and Peter to cherish one another. And frankly, I’m worried about you and cherishing.”
“But I love, Peter, Father Steed. I love him very much.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about you cherishing Peter. I’m worried about you letting Peter cherish you.”
She sat back in her wheelchair, thoroughly bewildered now.
“I understand why you don’t want to be a burden to him, Kathryn. I would feel exactly the same way. I would hate having to be dependent on others.”
Now she began to see where he was going with this. She nodded slowly. “That has been the hardest part of all.”
“I know. And now, because you are his wife, Peter has a responsibility for you. If he truly cherishes you, which I know he does, then he will want to help you carry that burden, lighten it for you, take it away when he can. He will want to do things for you, worry about you, make things easier for you.”
“But is that always best?” she cried. “If I let him do everything for me, I won’t get better.”
“I told him that. I told him he’s got to be careful and not dote on you.”
Both Kathryn and Alice were surprised by that. “You talked to Peter?” Kathryn asked.
He nodded. “Just before I came over here.”
“Will too?” Alice asked.
He laughed. “Of course. Did you think I would only pick on the women?” He leaned forward, deeply earnest now. “Let him cherish you, Kathryn. If he doesn’t, I’m going to box his ears. And if you don’t let him, then I’ll have to box yours too.”
“Yes, Father Steed,” she said meekly.
“Good.” He turned. “Now it’s your turn, Alice.”
“Yes, Father Steed.”
“You come with a different kind of burden. It’s not physical, but it can be just as crippling. You are feeling terribly guilty right now, aren’t you?”
Her eyes dropped and she nodded numbly.
“I wish I could take that away from you just as I wish I could take Kathryn’s handicap away from her, but I can’t. Only you can do that. So I want you to listen to me and listen very closely.”
She looked up and forced a smile through the tears. “Did Will get this counsel too?”
“In a way, but in a different form.” Again there was a flicker of a smile. “I told him that he’d better treat you like a queen or I’d box his ears as well.”
That won him a little warmer smile. “He already does, Father Steed.”
“I know. But now you listen to this.” He lifted the Bible and shook it gently at her. “One of the Ten Commandments is that we should honor our father and our mother. And rightly so. It is a great debt we owe to them. Your parents especially deserve that because they have been so good to you.”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice. “So good.”
“But the same God who gave that commandment also said something very important to Adam. After creating Eve and bringing her to Adam he said: ‘Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.’”
Her head came up slowly as the import of those words hit her.
“Yes, Alice, it is part of the Lord’s plan that we honor our parents. But equally important—no, sometimes even more important—is another commandment. There comes a time in the life of each person when they have to leave their first family and start a family of their own. Hopefully, the parents are glad when that happens. But if they are not, it still has to happen.”
She said nothing, but she was watching him intently, as if she were afraid she might miss even one word. Her tears had stopped now.
“You and Will know that the Lord is pleased with your union. And you know that joining the Church is not wrong. So while the hurt will always be with you, don’t let guilt over this cripple you. What you are do
ing is pleasing to your Heavenly Father. I testify to you that that is true. What you are doing is right.”
After a long time she slowly began to nod. “Thank you, Father Steed. I needed to hear that right now.”
“What your parents have not, and probably will not, consider is that we too are going to have to say good-bye to two of our family. Joshua and Caroline are going to say good-bye to their son and a brand new daughter-in-law. That is hard for us as well. But we at least understand why it has to be so. We all hope and pray that some day your earthly parents will come to understand and be pleased as well. That’s what happened to Lydia. It took years, but before her father died, Nathan had become like the son he had never had.”
“I told myself that all through the night,” she whispered.
He reached for the Bible in his lap and opened it. “There’s one more thing I want to say. And this comes from the Savior himself.” He thumbed through it until he found his place. “It’s in the book of Matthew. The Savior had been talking about rich men and how difficult it would be for them to enter into heaven. Something about what he said struck the Apostle Peter and he asked the Savior a question. ‘What about us?’”
Now he opened the book wide and lifted it slightly so he could read it. “Here is the Savior’s answer: ‘Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters—’” He stopped, looking directly at Alice now. “‘Or father, or mother—’”
The tears rose up and spilled over her lids, trickling down her cheeks.
“‘—or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.’”
He shut the book and set it aside. Now he too wept, and he was no longer ashamed. Kathryn was holding Alice’s hand tightly and crying with the two of them as well.
“Here you two are,” Benjamin went on, “each with your own set of challenges, each with your own test of faith. And yet you have not wavered. You are truly daughters of our Heavenly Father. How privileged Mother Steed and I feel to have you belong to our family!”
Then he straightened perceptibly and his voice rang out with conviction. “And I feel strongly impressed to tell you that your children and your grandchildren and your great-grandchildren shall rise up and honor your names and call themselves blessed to be born of such women as you.”
They went to Mrs. Willard’s Dress Shop straight from the baptismal site, Alice’s hair still wet. They arrived at eight-forty-five, hoping that Sister Willard might be there early, which she was. The dresses they found were simple both in line and fabric—white cotton, gently scooped neckline, half sleeve, full skirt gathered at the waist. There were two of them, almost identical, both marked at half price. That was partly because they were summer dresses; and it was partly because the Willards would be leaving Nauvoo come spring too, and white dresses were not high on the list of items that would be taken across the plains. Jenny had traded a plain but sturdy oak chest Matthew had made for her the year before and thrown in a dollar fifty cents to make up the difference. Caroline bargained for Alice’s dress with twenty-five pounds of sugar from the store, something that was a needed commodity and much in demand.
The moment the purchases were completed, the women descended on Lydia’s store. They hung a Closed sign on the door, pulled down the blinds, and then proceeded to help themselves freely to the dwindling supply of goods on the shelves. They took bows and ribbon, lace and trim. Lydia had set aside a small box of white buttons some months before, thinking they might someday come in handy for a wedding dress. By ten o’clock, they had transformed the two dresses into simple but elegant wedding gowns and had them fitted on Kathryn and Alice.
Once she was convinced that the makeover was well toward satisfactory completion, Mary Ann left the store and went home to see to the clothing for the two men. Will was relatively simple. Matthew—or more accurately, Jenny—had saved the wedding clothes which he had received as a gift from Joshua. They were all neatly folded in a box and placed in the attic and still in excellent shape. Nathan and Derek pointedly reminded Matthew that this was the case only because Matthew’s waist had grown under Jenny’s tutelage until he could no longer wear the trousers. Will, still being unmarried and uncoddled, was slim enough in the waist that he could have worn a size smaller if necessary. The long coat and the shirt presented a different problem, however. Fortunately, both Matthew and Will were about the same height, both being about six feet tall, but Will had his father’s broad shoulders, whereas Matthew was more slender like his mother. The jacket would be tight, Mary Ann decided, but if she moved the two buttons over half an inch and warned Will sternly not to get too exuberant in hugging Alice when it was all over, they would be all right.
Peter presented a different problem. He had a coat he wore for Sunday worship services. He had purchased it four years earlier and it was starting to show signs of aging, but it would have to do. Off went young Joshua, Emily, Rachel, Mark, and Luke to see what they could find in the way of trousers. Solomon was too large, by several sizes. Derek had always been thicker through the body than his younger brother and could not help. Joshua had several fine suits of clothing, but he was even taller than Solomon.
So they went to see Carl Rogers. He was the closest in height to Peter, but not close enough. His legs were a good two inches longer than Peter’s, and fifteen years of marriage had added enough to his waistline that Peter could have turned around inside the trousers comfortably. Yet it was still possible to make them work. By then the other women had finished the dresses, and they all came over to Derek’s house and swarmed around Peter. The trouser legs were cuffed, the back of the waist gathered in and pinned heavily. Thank heavens for long coats! Carl’s shirt was more easily altered. A neighbor furnished a white silk cravat that set off Peter’s jacket very nicely. Joshua brought forth a set of boots—with rags stuffed in the toes—and the ensemble was complete.
Now as the four prospective wedding candidates greeted their guests, Mary Ann studied them with satisfaction. It was all right. Actually, considering they had not started until this morning after the baptism, it was downright miraculous. They looked very handsome, the four of them—three standing, and Kathryn in her chair. The girls looked like angels in their white dresses; Will and Peter looked more like members of one of the leading quorums of the Church than two very young and very happy bridegrooms.
“I think we did all right,” she said, leaning over to whisper in Benjamin’s ear.
He was thinking the same thing, only he wasn’t looking at the prospective wedding partners. He was taking the measure of the tables of food that lined the fence along one side of Joshua’s backyard. There were pies and cakes, puddings, cookies, buns, sweet rolls, and loaves of freshly baked bread. There were jars of jellies, jams, and preserves. There were pickled beets, pickled cucumbers, pickled pumpkin, and pickled pigs’ feet. And as if that wasn’t enough, in the Steed houses up and down the street, pots and pans of corn, potatoes, fried chicken, gravy, carrots, parsnips, turnips, chicken and dumplings, and half a dozen other dishes sat on the backs of stoves, kept hot until the moment of serving.
The weather could not have been better, considering that it was the twenty-first day of October. The air was cool and had been quite chilly for the baptism, but now in the late afternoon the sun had warmed it into the low sixties and it was most pleasant. The number of guests had now risen to almost two hundred, counting the family members, and the backyard was crowded and noisy. That many people would consume most of what he saw before him, that he knew. The children were already eyeing it hungrily, while suspicious parents gave them stern warning glances to keep them at bay. But considering the circumstances under which they now labored, this was something to behold. This was largesse out of poverty, generosity out of want. He was deeply touched.
“Yes,” he said to his wife. “I think you did it right.”
“Oh, look!” Mary Ann exclaimed.
Benjamin
turned. Brigham Young was just coming around the house. He was accompanied by Parley Pratt, Heber Kimball, John Taylor, Willard Richards, Amasa Lyman, and George A. Smith. He could hardly believe his eyes. Every member of the Quorum of Twelve who was currently in Nauvoo was here. That was a singular honor indeed.
He took Mary Ann’s arm. “Let’s go say hello.” His voice was low and filled with emotion. “I think it is time to begin.”
They placed the two couples directly in front of the small covered arbor that Caroline kept in her backyard. The vines were leafless now but it was still the best backdrop. Kathryn insisted that she stand for the ceremony itself and had gone to crutches now. She was accompanied by Jenny as her matron of honor. Derek stood beside Peter as best man. Joshua stood beside Will as his best man and Caroline was matron of honor for Alice. On both sides of the arbor, all of the girl grandchildren—dressed in their finest long dresses—stood side by side, tallest to shortest moving from the center out. The boys, much to their relief, were spared such doings and were allowed to be the official “greeters,” mingling with the crowd or just watching.
Benjamin stood in front of this rather large entourage, Bible and some written notes in hand and appropriately frocked in a long-tailed brown coat and fawn-colored trousers. The crowd, with the family members taking the first row, pushed in behind them so they could hear clearly.
Benjamin held up one hand and the crowd quickly quieted. “We have had prayer. We have sung a hymn. I think most of you have had a chance to greet these wonderful young people. Now it is time to begin.” He let his eyes move across the faces of the four who watched him eagerly. “I suppose the first order of business is to determine which of these two couples is the most eager to be married.”
There was good-natured laughter from all around him.
“This is a dilemma. I was afraid that if I chose to marry Peter and Kathryn first, Kathryn might think I was favoring her because she is on crutches.” He winked at her. “Knowing how she likes to be coddled, I decided I might get my ears boxed if I tried that.”
The Work and the Glory Page 382