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Show 6fo At another time I might have smiled indulgently or turned aWay in i r r i t a t i o n , wondering why everyone in the group always seemed to be looking forward to apocalypse. It had to be more than yearning for the day when the temple doors would be opened unto them, it had to be more than longing to see the Savior. Was i t not that life was so unbearable when the major focus was one of persecution, of sacrifice, of waiting for the rampage of the wicked? Didn't they grow weary of expecting the mountains to f a l l and from sheer ennervation, d i d n ' t they long to have-it happen, to get i t over with? But I didn t smile or express my i r r i t a t i o n . I, too, had been feeling the b i t e of time, had f e l t the mangling touch of anticpation. And I had dreamedM. earthquakes, wars, and famine. My father showed me how the rooms were placed for maximum privacy and comfort. "Many of our dear ones could l i v e here, if need be." Even me, Daddy? I wanted to ask. Could Brian and I and our meagre family move in here - monogamists among polygamistsf When I compared myself with my s i s t e r s , I f e l t myself to be a failure in 'building up God's kingdom on the e a r t h . ' Some had borne %v>U aM. ikVKji. +^lv A«.U-«<.K^.I. huihcfUcr six and seven children to my two. A And yet, I f e l t that JWAWould welcome me. He stood, smiling complacently, surveying the walls and ceilings. *** Bespite his obvious pride, I could tell that he did not feel the same tender, reflective hope on these grounds that he had once felt the white house. The white house was home - would always be home, le ^is place was only a temporary sanctuary. Still he had built from lt> had tried to restore what the Church and State had robbed^him^ ^ this in his late sixties. "You're an amazing man, Daddy," I murmured. Looking into |
