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Show in my father's house/ 6 in hopes of finding other polygamous "Saints," where cold struck deep so great limbs cracked and fell from the trees, and he walked a mile to the woodpile to be chased home by wolves. "I learned something then," he told me. "I learned that it does no good to be afraid. Far better to keep your good sense and have faith in the Lord. When a person's time comes, it's the will of God, and there's no use resisting it." He turned and spoke up so my brothers could hear. "I remember when I was about your age, boys, and all the other fellows were interested in girls and baseball. They used to make fun of me and call me 'Elijah' because I was so zealous in my church duties. But I stuck to my guns, and after awhile they came around. I hope my sons will profit from my experience and have the courage to stand by their beliefs when people mock them." Saul raised his pitchfork and examined the prongs; I could see the angry muscle working in his cheek. But Isaac nodded silently and went on shoveling manure. My father stripped the last drops of cream and hung the stool on its peg, then caught the pail in one hand and my hand in the other. "Come on, Princess." We walked into the clean, sharp air. He stopped outside to polish his black oxfords against his pantlegs, but manure stuck to the soles. First we crunched across the yard to my grandmother's |