Susan Evans McCloud - Something Lost, Something Gained

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.
Bookcraft is a registered trademark of Deseret Book Company.
Visit us at deseretbook.com

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: 95-77043

ISBN 10 0-88494-993-1

ISBN 13 978-0-88494-993-0

eISBN 978-1-62973-871-0 (eBook)

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 Moochie (Morag),
who still embodies the charms
and pure qualities of childhood
and always will

Contents

Chapter One

Strangers in a Strange Land

Ohio! A new home in Ohio! Sophie had never heard the word before. It was an Iroquois Indian name meaning something grand. Her father and mother thought it was something grand to come to this new town of Kirtland, Ohio, and gather with other people who had accepted the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Sophie liked the sound of those words. She liked the feeling that had welled up inside her when her family had knelt with the missionaries and asked God to let them know if this religion was true. Her father enjoyed calling these teachings, brought to light through the young prophet Joseph Smith, the American religion.

Most churches were begun in other countries a long time ago, he explained. But Mormonism started right here in New England. Yes, my dears, our Heavenly Father prepared this choice land and watched over it, so that his truth could come forth.

Sophies father and mother were proud of being Americans. They were proud of their ancestors who had come over on the Mayflower . Sophie knew that, but she didnt understand it. And she didnt understand why everything had been hard and painful ever since they had decided to become Latter-day Saints.

Sun in thick golden dabs, the color of creamy buttermilk, sifted through the green leaves of the trees and drew patterns along the gray, dusty road where Sophie walked with her father. Oh, why did Father have to sell her gentle Blossom? They needed her milk more than ever, now that a new baby was on the way. Sophie put her hand against the cows thick neck and felt the warmth of the sun on her hide. A stranger will have Blossom and her butter-flecked milk , Sophie thought, and her sad brown eyes, and

Now, Sophie, stop brooding, Father chided. Blossom will be fine. Well find an owner who will be good to her, and well manage fine, too, without her.

Fine! Fine was the farm back in Massachusetts with a big red barn filled with hay for their cows and horses, a chicken coop where the white squabbly hens laid their pale oval eggs. Fine was the yellow house with green shutters at the windows, where Sophies own room looked out over the widest tree in the apple orchard. That had been heavenwith the smells of fresh-made rolls and pastries coming from Mothers kitchen, a basketful of Auroras kittens sitting warm by the stove, soft sunlight to tickle her awake in the mornings, and a cool breeze to lull her to sleep at night. That had been homethe only home Sophie had known in all her seven years.

They had reached the market. There were so many people here, pushing and jostling one another and calling in loud voices to make themselves heard. Father had stopped and was talking to a stranger, who poked his long, bony fingers at Blossom and ran a thin, scratchy hand along her shiny dun coat.

Shell do nicely, he said. His voice was raspy, and as thin as his hands that moved nervously now in his pockets. Ill give you fifteen dollars for her.

Fifteen dollars!

Sophie could hear the distress in her fathers voice.

A good cow goes these days for twenty to twenty-five dollarsand I need the money, sir.

You need the money? The stranger ran his tongue over his thin, hard mouth. Youre one of them Mormons, aint you? I shouldnt even buy this cow off you. We dont like how many mangy Mormons are here already, and more keep comin. Mebbe if I dont buy this here beast youll have to go back where you came from

Father set his jaw. His black eyes snapped as he tugged at Blossoms lead rope and walked around the stranger, who looked after them with surprise in his blue, squinted eyes.

I didnt like that man, Sophie whispered as she followed Father. Im glad you didnt sell Blossom to him.

We havent sunk so low, my little nut-brown maiden, not yet.

Sophie grinned as Father tickled her under the chin. The light had come back to his eyes, the light that was always there when he talked about their new home and their new religion. Sophie didnt completely understand it, but she knew that both her father and mother considered Mormonism wonderfulworth leaving their home and families for, worth living in this place, so strange and crowded, where many of the people did not want them.

The man was right about one thing, Father said, seeing the look of discouragement on Sophies face. The Saints are coming to Kirtland, and no one can stop us! The Prophet Joseph has called us to gather here and we mean to obey. Here well learn to be one big family, and well learn what it means to really love one another.

Father reached over and put his strong brown hand around Sophies small one and gave it a squeeze.

This must be right , Sophie thought, if it makes Father so happy. Ill try to be happy, too.

And so she did. She tried to be happy when they found a round, red-faced woman with laughing eyes to buy Blossom for her brood of eight children.

Twenty-one dollars, Father marveled, clinking the coins in his pocket. That will go a long way toward keeping the wolf from the door.

Sophie wasnt sure what he meant by that. But she tried to be happy at the relief she could read in his eyes, and at the pleasure which lit Mothers pinched face when they walked in with the money and announced the bargain theyd made.

Arent you two the clever ones? Mother smiled, and for a moment her smile held all the golden beauty of the farm in Massachusetts, where life had been sweet and simple and safe.