Contents

The Gift - A Moment in Reflection, Autumn, 1920

Update item information
Title Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 08
Subject Pioneers
Description Stories and poems about early Southern Utah Pioneers
Publisher Snow College
Date 1976
Type Text
Format image/jpeg
Language eng
Rights Management Snow College
Holding Institution Snow College
ARK ark:/87278/s6rr1wdf
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-26
Date Modified 2005-02-26
ID 325605
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6rr1wdf

Page Metadata

Title The Gift - A Moment in Reflection, Autumn, 1920
Description climbed upon her Liberty float, and blushed when the boys in the brass band whistled at her. Mother took me to the children's float. If I hadn't been small for my age I'd have looked strange, because the other children ranged in age from two to six or seven. When I pro-tested riding it again Mother refused to listen. "This will be the last time," she promised. She had said that the previous year, too. Then Mother weaved her way through the crowd and went toward town. I settled in a rear corner of the wagon, paying no attention to the other children. I knew I was too old to ride that float. I could read the banner and no one else could. So I alone knew we were "Utah's Best Crop." The flag carriers started down the dusty main street, and the other entries fell in behind them. The haywagon load of children creaked in line and down the street. We were in front of Mother's store when Swen Yorganson saw me on the float. He and his black dog were standing on the edge of the crowd. Swen was one of those tormenting children who hated a variation. "Hey, look who's on the babies float," he called to some other boys. "Little baby Nigel! Oh, look at him! Isn't he sweet? Little baby Nigel!" he chanted. Soon the others joined him. My eyes were burning and my throat ached. I tried not to look at them, but I couldn't help it. I glanced up in time to see Tobit on our porch, rubbing against the pillars, wanting to be petted. And I saw Swen point and yell at his dog, "Get 'im!" The ugly black dog bounded across our lawn to the porch. Tobit hissed and ran toward the street, his back arched. The dog was nearly upon him. "No, Tobit," I screamed. Swen and the others were laughing. Tobit ran under the wheel of the wagon, the wheel directly beneath me. I heard a horrendous scream. Tumbling, falling, screaming, I fell off the wagon and dropped to Tobit. The ugly dog was sniffing at him, nosing him. "Tobit, Tobit!" I cried. I laid over him. "No, Tobit, no." I was sobbing. Tobit, lying there squished in the middle, his eyes dead, his mouth open, terrorized me. The entire universe for that moment was a horrifying flash of black with an insane agony of helplessness. -23-
Format image/jpeg
Identifier 033_The Gift - A Moment in Reflection, Autumn, 1920.jpg
Source Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 8
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-19
Date Modified 2005-02-19
ID 325584
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6rr1wdf/325584