Susan Evans McCloud - The Angels Sing

1995 by Bookcraft, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, Bookcraft, Inc., at permissions@deseretbook.com. This work is not an official publication of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The views expressed herein are the responsibility of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of the Church or of Bookcraft, Inc.
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This is a work of fiction. Characters and events in this book are products of the authors imagination or are represented fictitiously.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 95-77041

ISBN-10 0-88494-995-8

ISBN-13 978-0-88494-995-4

eISBN 978-1-62973-873-4

Printed in the United States of America

Alexanders Print Advantage, Lindon, UT

JIT

MORMON GIRLS

Sophie, a Kirtland Girl

Something Lost, Something Gained

The Giving Heart

The Angels Sing

For Bronwyn and Nettie (Antoinette),
two Mormon girls who are
dear to me

Contents

Chapter One

New Friends and New Challenges

Little Billy Taylors gone to be a sailor

His ships for China bound.

Wont the sea perplex him! Wont its rolling vex him!

I hope he wont get drowned!

Sophie bounced Lucy Anne high on her knee as she recited the old rhyme her mother had taught her. Lucy giggled and begged for more. Sophie smiled at the Perry twins, Rebekah and Rachel, who were patiently waiting their turns. The smell of cut apples and of apples simmering in the cooking potas sweet as flowerstickled her nose. Lucy Anne slid from her lap, and Sophie lifted up one of the black-haired twinsless than a year older than her little sister, who was now a big girl of nearly two, a great age at which she could run after the chickens that pecked in the yard and dance when Father played his fiddle of an evening. She was such a clever child, speaking dozens of words and singing every song Sophie taught her.

The late October day was as crisp as the apples Mother was making into applesauce with Sister Perry. But the bright sunlight was warm. Sophie smiled with the sheer pleasure of the day, and looked around at the Perry childrenKathleen, who was Oscars age; Laura, who was five; and these twins, nearly as pretty as Lucy. At first Sophie had not wanted to be friends with the new family from Canada who had moved in just down the road from them. All those children! And Mother constantly doing favors for them, giving them the biggest loaf of bread, the best squash from the garden, the last of the pork that Sophies family had eaten so sparingly through the winter.

But, bit by bit, Sophie came to know the Perrys and discover she liked things about each one. She liked the way Sister Perry sang when she worked, and the way she would stop what she was doing, cock her head to one side, and listen carefully whenever Sophie spoke to her. She liked the way Kathleen, who was seven like Oscar, would run footraces with him, and play by the river, not minding when her frock got soiled or her shoes got wet. She liked how tender Laura was, just like a little mother. She even let Laura play with the doll that Mother had made for her. At five she was more careful than most little girls twice her age. Sophie liked to watch her sing the rag doll to sleep, rocking it back and forth in her plump, rosy arms. And the twins! The twins were as delightful to watch as two playful kittens!

Sophie stole a glance behind her to where Edmund sat under the shade of a maple whose broad leaves shone scarlet beneath the bright sun. Edmund was nine, the oldest child in the Perry family. But he could not help his father in the fields or run and play with the others, because Edmund was lame. Two years ago in Canada, when he was just Oscars age, his father had been felling trees to clear more land for farming. A huge limb had broken off one of the trees and fallen on top of Edmund, crushing his legs. Before then he had loved to swim, loved to traipse the woods with his father in search of small game. Especially he had loved to ride his fathers horses around their big farm. But all that had ended. He could do nothing now but sit in the chair with wheels which his father had made for him. He could not walk and run. He could not even stand on his own two feet.

Sophies heart went out to him. But she felt timid when she was around him, and did not know what to say. Edmund always sat with his eyes on his lap. He would not look into her face. The few times she did catch a proper glimpse of him she saw no anger or bitterness in those eyesonly an emptiness. It was as though Edmund had hidden his real self someplace safe and private, deep inside.

Later that evening, eating warm apple pie with her family around the fire, Sophie couldnt help thinking of how much things had changed since they first came to Kirtland. Father had added a room onto the cramped cabin where they lived, and they had managed to get a new cow and a few chickens, so that fresh milk and eggs had become a part of their lives again. How hungry they had been that first winter in Kirtland! How miserable and frightened Sophie had felt! Strange, she mused. There were still times when they went hungry, and the enemies of the Saints were still all around, stirring up trouble. But, somehow, it was different. Ever since Father returned from Zions Camp over a year ago, things had improved. The Lord had blessed them. The Lord was blessing his peopleespecially now. For the Saints were doing all in their power to finish the temple they were buildinga house of the Lord. Sophie liked the sound of those words. The Savior had promised his prophet, Joseph Smith, that in the temple He would pour out His blessings upon the obedient. And Sophie knew if the Lord said, through Joseph, that He would do something, then you could count on its happening. She had learned that for herself.

Chapter Two

How to Help Edmund?

For the third time Sophie unpicked her loose, uneven stitches. They must be better than thatas close to perfect as she could shape them. For these shirts would be worn by the temple workersshirts of Sophies own making! To her amazement, Sophie hummed as she worked, and her gray cat curled round her ankle and then settled on top of her foot. Even now that she was nearly ten she could not honestly say that she enjoyed doing needlework. But somehow it wasnt so tedious when she was sewing for the men who labored on the temple. She felt she was doing her share. She knew that each and every person contributed what he could in time, materials, and labor. But some worked long hours day after day, and even into the night. They would have nothing to eat unless food was donated by those who were willing to share. Then there were the families of men called on special missions to the East to raise money for the temple, which would take thousands of dollars to build.