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the town seemed unusually quiet. Except for an occasional yapping dog, the streets were deserted. Peter's heart began racing as Hans turned the team up the canyon road. He knew that home was only minutes away. His excitement v:as shortened, however, when Hans said he had to first stop at his place. Peter thought hi3 older "brother was being awfully mean. But he said nothing. Plans pulled the wagon behind th<? house, handed the reins to Niels, and jumped down. Suddenly a throng of people burst from the barn and house. They were cheering, -¦eter was astonished, but his heart was filled with joy. He savf his two wives and several of his children. He rushed up to then and pulled them into his arms. Then he heard the loud, distinctive voices of the South Ward Choir, and Peter realized that it was more than a dream. He knew that he was home at last. And as Manti's silver band joined in with the strains of the choir, Peter knew without any doubt that he was not yet in heaven. . . still short of perfection, but happy all the sane. This story is based on an incident in the life of Peter Westenskow, the author's second great-grandfather. The following account appeared in the "Home Sentinel" on January 23, 1889: Bro Peter Westenskow returned from Uncle Sam's keeping Monday evening. The Manti silver band and the South Ward choir met Bro. Westenskow at his brother's residence and escorted him home, where a very happy tirae was had, music and singing being the order of the hour. We are glad to see Sro. W. home a^sin." "Life Sketch of Peter Westenskow;" the Jens Veibye Journals; Song of a Century, and family stories. 110 |
