From the Improvement Era, May 1963 –

Peach Blossoms

By Myrtle M. Dean

Anne knew by the troubled expression on David’s face that something at the council meeting had caused him concern. She looked at him anxiously and waited for him to speak of it to her if he wished. He tried to smile reassuringly, yet Anne was sure something was worrying him. President Young often called some of the brethren in to help decide important issues which confronted the Saints here in the valley. There were many problems and difficult decisions in this new country. Anne was glad that David was considered worthy to be asked to such councils. David slept restlessly all night. Anne knew that much of the time he was awake. He works too hard, shoulders great responsibilities, but never has he taken it so seriously as now, Anne thought. David arose at dawn and spoke quietly to her. “Go back to sleep, Anne. You need more rest. I must go with some of the brethren to repair the City Creek ditch. We must not waste a drop of water this year.” He moved noiselessly, so he would not wake the children. “I’ll probably be a little late for breakfast,” he told Anne as he left. Surely, it was not just the ditches and the water that made David so worried and so hesitant to speak of a problem to her. There had been so many things they had faced together since they were married. She could not sleep but lay pondering the things that had come to the people since their arrival in this desert country.

Anne was only twenty when she traveled in the same company with David across the plains. They were married just one year later in the valley. David was healthy and strong. He was dependable and held in high esteem by all who knew him. He had been called by the leaders to do many of the most trying and difficult tasks that faced the settlement. She had tried to stand bravely behind him in all the things they had had to face.

I must not recount all our trials, Anne thought, as she cringed with the remembrance of the droughts, the cricket and locust hordes. She recalled the awful hunger pangs they had known so many times. She remembered how frightened she had been of the Indians’ threatenings those first years, also of her recent fears about the coming of Johnston’s army and their readiness to leave their homes and flee southward. But God had been very kind to his people, and now they were building better homes. They had cattle and horses. Their gardens were growing fresh vegetables, and fields were green with grain. Times were so much better for all of them. Now what new thing had come to trouble them?

Anne looked out to see if David were coming to breakfast. Not seeing him, she went out to the back garden. The morning was clear and bright. The sun rose over the eastern hills and shone down on the homes of the valley. Tender, green vegetables grew in long, straight rows. A silvery thread of water ran in the ditch at the head of the garden. Beyond the garden, they had planted several fruit trees. Anne thought back to the beginnings of the trees, the fruit pips they had planted as President Young had advised. Almost hopelessly they had tended them through droughts and burning sun. Now, as she raised her eyes to the trees, she exclaimed aloud, as she beheld the pink loveliness of those peach blossoms. It seemed that they had burst forth in full beauty almost overnight. There would be fruit, precious, fresh fruit for their children this summer.

Anne thought of the family prayer that David had offered last night before going to the council meeting. It was full of appreciation for all their blessings. He gave thanks for their son Mark and their two little girls, Mary Ellen and Nancy, and for Anne his wife. As he finished his prayer, he had said, “We thank thee, that our Prophet Brigham Young led us to this choice land, and that he told us, ‘This is the place.'”

Anne’s heart swelled with gratitude as she looked over their garden and their fruits. The grain and corn were growing rapidly. This would be their best season in the valley.

She hurried toward the house. She would bring the children out to see the peach blossoms. Before she reached the door, she saw David coming with his shovel on his shoulder. He did not whistle as he usually did when he came in from work. His face was still troubled. “I will not wait for David to speak of his troubles. I will ask him, now,” she told herself.

“Did you get the ditch fixed all right? Will there be enough water?” she asked.

“Yes, the city ditch is in shape to carry plenty of water for all our gardens and orchards here. The brethren are going to enlarge the ditch that we brought from Big Cottonwood. There should be sufficient for all the fields south of the city.”

Anne noted the lack of enthusiasm in his words. She looked at him anxiously.

“Are you ill, David? You slept so little last night, and I’m sure there is something wrong this morning.”

“I’m all right, Anne. At least I’m not ill.” David hesitated a moment before he continued. “I just don’t know how to say what I must tell you.” His voice was solemn as he went on, “We have always tried to obey counsel and heed the voice of our leaders, haven’t we, Anne?”

“Why, David, yes, of course. We always have tried.” She looked inquiringly into his face. This must be something very different from what they had experienced to cause so much concern. Many of the men were being sent on missions to the different nations. Perhaps David was asked to go. He would be worried about leaving her and the children.

“David, if you are called to go on a mission, we can manage here. Our Mark is growing up so fast. He can be a great help in the fields, and the little girls can do something about the house. If this is the trouble, don’t be so concerned.”

“Anne, it is not a call for me only. It is for all of us. It is for our whole family.”

“Tell me quickly, David.” Her voice faltered as she tried to speak, “David, we are not being asked to leave our home, our home here in the valley?”

“Last night at the meeting, President Young told us of the great need for brethren to go to the southern settlements of the territory and lead out in building up Zion in those places. They call it Utah’s Dixie. The President asked me to go with my family. There are so many coming to this valley that there will not be room here.”

“Oh, David, you didn’t say that we would go? You didn’t tell President Young that we could?” Anne’s voice was but a breathless whisper.

“President Young didn’t ask us if we wanted to go, Anne. He told us, and he spoke very deliberately: ‘Brethren, after much thought and earnest prayer, I have been impressed to call certain brethren to go to other settlements to assist in making proper places for the many Saints who are coming to join us in Zion. After much prayer,’ he said, Anne.”

Anne’s face paled, and she clasped her hands tightly. Her words rushed out fiercely. “David, when we came here to the valley, President Young told us, ‘This is the Place.’ The Prophet Joseph saw the Saints here in the mountains, also. President Young saw in vision this place and the spot where the temple is being built. It was here, David, that he led the people.”

“That is true, Anne. But now he sees need for more settlements for the many who have joined the Church and are coming to Zion.” David’s voice was solemn.

Anne clasped her face in her hands and let her tears flow freely. Her words came brokenly, “But why should we be called to go? We have obeyed counsel and planted and worked diligently to build up our home and land. There are those who have not obeyed the advice of the leaders and have not wisely cared for their lands. Let them go to the new settlements. Not us, David. Not us! President Young told us if we were obedient, we would be blessed here.”

“They would do no better in other places than they have done here. President Young asked for leaders to help those who are new in our country. And Anne, we have indeed been blessed here. We will be blessed whenever we obey our leaders.” David tried to comfort Anne.

“Couldn’t I go with you to President Young? Couldn’t we make him see what this would mean to us?”

David’s head bent thoughtfully. He stood in troubled silence for a moment, then he spoke firmly, “We cannot counsel Brother Brigham, Anne. He is our prophet. He knows what is best for the Church.”

“David, how do we know that we will not be asked to go again and again, from one place to another to settle a new town? When we left Nauvoo, we came to find a place to rest.”

Anne saw David’s shoulders droop, the tired lines deepen in his face, but she must find some way to make him see what she meant. Perhaps if he saw the garden now, he would understand more clearly how she felt. There were other lots near to theirs that had been carelessly neglected and overgrown with weeds and trash. No fruit had been planted. Surely these were the ones who should go away from here.

“Come, David, come and see the peach trees blossoming.” Anne led the way to the garden.

David’s face lighted at the pleasant sight. Anne took his hand and together they stood in silence, breathing in the fragrance of the blossoms in the early morning freshness. A meadowlark flew up a few yards away and burst into song. In the hush of the morning, they could hear the sound of the stone-cutters as they began their work a few blocks away on the temple lot. A sudden thought sprang into Anne’s mind as she thought of the temple they were building. She spoke, a light coming into her eyes. “David, do you remember the blessing that Patriarch John Smith gave you? Don’t you remember what he said? ‘You will assist in building a temple to our God, and shall labor therein.’ This is where the temple is being built, David.”

For a moment, David stood looking toward the temple site, listening to the steady sound of the workers’ hammers and chisels. Then his eyes turned to Anne, “Yes, my dear, I do remember that blessing. But Anne, I recall too, President Young’s words when he spoke of the building of the temple here. He said, ‘The Saints will build many temples all over the land. This temple shall have six towers, but some shall have but one.’ Don’t you remember Anne?”

“Oh, David— David,” she repeated as they moved toward the house.

“I may assist in building a temple in some other place. It may be even sooner completed than this temple, Anne.”

David and his young son Mark went to the farm just as usual to tend the crops, although the company was to leave in just one week for the settlement. There would be ten families called to go at this time. David told Anne he wished to leave everything in good order for those who took over his place.

It was a bitter thought for Anne to leave all this green garden and flowers; the prospects of fruit and a good harvest of crops to those who had not turned a hand to produce them.

The children went outside to play, and Anne was glad to be alone. Yet her solitude was shortly broken. Sister Adams came with tear-stained face.

“Anne, John tells me that David has been called to take his family to the Dixie settlement, too. Are you going to let him take you to that awful place? It is much worse than it was here when we came to settle, they tell me.”

Anne spoke dismally. “Oh, Sarah, I’m only hoping that something may happen to let us remain, but you know how David is. He would never refuse a call from our leaders.”

“I just can’t go,” Sarah said. “You know how delicate our little Alice is. She could never stand that long, hard journey, or the terrible heat when we got there. They say the sun beats down on the red sand hills so. I just can’t go,” Sarah repeated.

Lucy Barton came also that morning. “There are alkali swamps, and folks get the ague until they shake, then burn with fever. The rocks are filled with rattlesnakes and lizards. Still my Joseph says we are obliged to go there.” Lucy’s words fell heavy on Anne’s heart and left her filled with sorrow. Oh, why do my friends come to me? Anne thought, How can I give them comfort when my own heart is full of uncertainty and turmoil? Yet, as each one came, Anne found herself saying to them the very things that David had said to her. “President Young says that the new Saints who come here must have leaders to help them get started in a new land. There are so many coming now, there is not room for all to remain here in the valley.”

All morning, Anne wondered if there might be some way she could help Sarah Adams. Truly, little Alice Adams’ condition might give great concern if something were not done for her soon. Anne thought of how her grandmother had nursed the sick in Nauvoo and while upon the plains. Now she was gone, but the methods she used were simple, healing herbs and plenty of fresh sunshine, and good clean air. Alice had been sheltered in the house too much and not allowed to get out and play with the other children.

Anne hurried to the pantry where she kept the carefully wrapped bundles of different herbs. She chose several. President Young had advised the Saints to make mild teas from these for the health of their families.

As Anne came to Sarah’s door, she saw that the house was still heavy with gloom. Little Alice sat pale faced and quietly watched her mother move purposelessly about the room.

Anne held out the herbs as she entered. “Sister Adams, I wondered if you had tried any of these herbs for Alice. I have found that they are very good to put the blood in condition, especially in the springtime like this.”

“Well, the doctor doesn’t seem to help any, so I guess it won’t hurt to try these. I remember your grandma was such a good nurse. You come naturally by working with the sick, Anne.”

“You know, Sarah, the southern, warm climate and change might be good for little Alice. They claim the winters are much milder than here in the valley.” Anne found herself sounding almost enthusiastic.

“Do you know, Anne, I feel that it was God who sent you here today. I just know that our child will be well and strong again.” Sarah’s words came earnestly.

Anne’s heart was lighter as she saw Sarah’s bitterness and worry replaced by faith and a cheerful countenance.

Ten covered wagons faced southward. To each was hitched a team of horses or a double span of oxen or mules. The wagons were piled high with the belongings of the travelers. Other wagons carried the families. Children peeked out from the back of wagon covers, excited by the thought of this new adventure. Men and women climbed slowly and solemnly to the high seats of their wagons. There were hurried calls to some of the children, who were taking one last run about the yard they were to leave. Some of the young ones clung to trinkets they had gathered. Many a mother held a baby in her lap or had a small child tucked in the seat beside her. On ahead were the cattle and oxen the families were taking with them.

Together, Anne and David listened to the voices of their children from the back of their wagon.

“Mama says that peaches and things will grow real fast down in the warm climate where we are going,” Mary Ellen said.

“Yeah, but the trees aren’t even planted yet. Just see how long we waited for ours to grow here, and bloom,” young Mark spoke disconsolately.

“And those new kids will get to eat ours this very summer. Their folks got our nice garden and everything. I did want some peaches and cream. But Mama says we’ll enjoy them more if we wait,” Nancy spoke seriously.

What can I say to them? Anne asked herself. What can I tell them to ease their grief and disappointment? She opened the flaps of the cover and looked in upon her children.

“My dears,” Anne said, trying to keep her voice from breaking, “did you see how very pale and thin the faces of those children were who came with their parents to live in our home? Let us be glad we are leaving something to give them to eat and make them happy. Be glad we are not leaving only weeds and thistles.”

“I guess I’m glad for them,” little Nancy said, “but I did want peaches, and the blossoms are so pretty.”

“Well, they say we can raise cotton down in the Dixie country, and it might be fun to pick cotton,” Mark declared, trying to sound cheerful.

Moving up toward the line of wagons about to head southward was a group of brethren.

“It is Brother Brigham and Brother Kimball and Brother Wells,” declared Anne. “I see Brother Taylor is with them, and several more coming on behind.”

“Let us be brave, Anne. Let us have courage to say farewell to the brethren with a smile.” David’s voice was steady.

“We wish you Godspeed! We send our blessings with you.” It was President Young speaking. His voice was firm and solemn. The leaders held their hands high in greeting as they moved from wagon to wagon.

“All ready to roll! We are on our way to Utah’s Dixie!” a voice shouted from the head wagon.

Now, for a moment, Anne turned to look once more upon the home she was leaving. She beheld the lovely trees so heavily laden with pink blossoms. The sun was shining down upon them. She reached for David’s hand, and for a moment they both were silent. Then, her eyes misted. “David, obedience is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of— well, peach trees!”

“Bless you, Anne,” David said as their voices were lost in the rattle of the wagons.