--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Huish, Mamie and Viva collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 13 number: 9 published: 1910-07 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Mamie and Viva Huish, "For Conscience’s Sake," *Improvement Era* 13, no. 9 (July 1910): 837–841.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1309unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1309unse start_page: 837 end_page: 841 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1910-07) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1309unse publication_year: 1910 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1910, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # For Conscience’s Sake 'Tor Conscience's Sake." A Pioneer Story Based on the Life of George Lake, one of the first Latter-day Saints to Colonize Mexico. BY MAMIE AND VIVA HUISH. Aloft in the eastern sky, an hour's length from the hill tops, Ushering the new born day, the sun in heaven suspended Looked down on the sleeping wastes, on the miles and miles of prairie, Whose arms stretched away in the distance, to gather home to its bosom Strength and life, and herds to graze on its scanty verdure. Coiling with stealth of a serpent, winding across the valley; Marked by the Druid alamoes that for ages had grown on its margin, Dipping their hoary beards into the turbulent water, — Northward the river flowed to empty itself in the Great Lake. I. Filled were my eyes with tears, as I gazed on the distant prairie; And I saw thro' the mist of years, the care and toil and privation, Before the dry, bleak desert as the rose should blossom and flourish. Forgotten were those around me, as I looked at the desolate picture, Wondering why God had chosen a land so distant and barren. Driven were we from our homes, with our helpless wives and our children; Bound by a common belief — to suffer in common for freedom. Dusty and careworn and weary, from the miles of tedious travel, Kneeled my companions with me, to pour forth our hearts in devotion. Looking into each face, where the light of each soul was reflected. Saw I no trace of fear, but a patience enduring and God-like; Feared they not the hardships that lay in the years before them; 8SS IMPROVEMENT ERA. Feared they to disobey when God commands from the heavens. Renewed by the strength of their faith, with the union of loved ones around me, The finding a haven of rest filled my grateful heart to o'erflowing — So, with our teams and our wagons, we entered the quiet valley. II. Away to the south and the west, with its patios and low adobe houses, Lay a peaceful Mexican village all serene. By the banks of the river Were the farms that yielded their food and were tilled in a crude, ancient fashion. Renting one of these farms for the half the crop we might gather, The grain we had brought from our homes, tho' late in the season, was planted; And, stretching our tents near the river, in the shade of the sheltering branches, We started our lives anew, as strangers among a strange people. III. Then came the season of drought, and the lagging days grew longer, Bringing the sultry weather, — the days and nights without moisture. Shrinking within itself, the river, now but a streamlet, Fain would withhold from the sun the draught that he eagerly sought for, As he swept with fiery breath the fields that were midway to harvest; And the hopes that had sprung in our hearts, with the grain drooped low 'neath his anger. What wonder that we should despair: gone was our store of provisions, Even the little corn which we daily ground in mataties Bought of a native amigo, who illy could spare it, diminished Till we scarcely could spare enough to give to the hungry children. Unused were we to the climate, but we struggled on for existence, Wanting for nourishing food, and the comforts that we had been used to. Strong and brave were our hearts, but our bodies, that part which was mortal, Succumbed. My heart grew faint as I watched my darling children Tossing with aching heads to and fro on their little pillows; Hot and red on their lips and brows burned the flush of the fever. Twice the sun rose and set, to bring no relief to the sufferers; Sinking to rest on the morrow saw a life ebb away, and then vanish As a flickering candle-light dies with a gust of wind thro' the casement. FOR CONSCIENCE'S SAKE. 889 Patiently Mary attended the child of her sister-companion. Moistening the feverish lips and aching brow, and in silence Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, — soon to hasten To shroud two babes of her own, e'er the week of suffering ended. We carried the three to a valley, away to the south and the westward, Where some of the Saints had been gathered; following far up the river, On past the homes of the living, — our loved ones the first to inhabit The City of Death, to be left in God's care; then returning To kneel by the bedside of those who were slowly recovering, We prayed: "Oh, Heavenly Father, look down in thy infinite mercy And fill our hearts with that faith that thou hast taught us to cherish; That we may be able to see thy light though the shadows that darken. We have followed thy hand through the desert, now forsake us not in our sorrow. We know that thou, in thy wisdom, has placed these trials before us To give us strength to endure, that our footsteps turn not nor falter. Help us to live to be worthy the blessings that folhw the faithful. And we dedicate all that we have to thine own namesake and thy glory." Renewed by the incense of faith, we arose, knowing "all would be well." IV. "Sorrow cometh not single," and the breath of woe, ere departing, Swept over the Mexican village, and many were seized by the fever. Unaided they died, — and we, by the bonds of a similar sorrow, Prayed God to inspire our minds that we might be able to help them. Wandering one day by the river, the voice of guidance prompting, I peeled from the alamo trunk the bark, which I burned into ashes. Making a simple infusion which relieved their terrible suffering. Thus many weeks I watched and prayed by their bedsides, frequenting Lowly and wretched roofs, and thro' hallways to canopied chambers Where distress and sorrow concealed themselves from the sunlight. Night after night, when all were asleep, I hastened on to my duty; And then, as the morning approached, returned to my home from the watching. Thus we were able to help them. Thus heaven in goodness provided That I found a place in their hearts, and they called me "The Good White Doctor." This was my mission to be, called by a holy apostle To tarry with "God's chosen people," awhile not to join with my brethren. 840 IMPROVEMENT ERA. V. Opened the window of heaven, and God looked and smiled thro' the curtain, A? the rain? cooled the breath of the prairie, with a promise of bountiful harvest. A.nd he sent tha "Angel of Goodness" to reveal to the hearts of the natives Our poverty, sorrow and want, and he gave them the needed pity. VI. One night, as we sat in the twilight, watching the dim shadows gather, Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its hinges; And we knew the soft tread of the tegua, and Manuel, the weaver* entered, Laying his gift down before us, the half of a fatted yearling, Only half he retained to feed his own hungry household. Into my mouth came these words, "Senor Manuel Hernandez, God from the heavens above will look down and reward you with plenty." VII. As when across the sky, the driving pulse of the rain-cloud Grows for a moment thin, and betrays the sun by its brightness, Our lives had been brightened awhile to enter a cloud which was darker. Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mist uprose from the river, There was a stir and a sound in the peaceful Mexican village. The governor issued an order that the Saints of God should be exiled And driven out of this land; and we knew not where we could wander. Return to our homes? No; never! For that meant a cruel desertion Of our loved ones — our wives and our children, and a forfeit of blessings celestial. But the angel stretched forth his hand and, gathering the cloud in his mantle, Sent a messenger forth to save us; and Don Celvestre Queveda Arose and said to the people, "Answer will I to the governor, If stay in the land you will, till your harvest is ripened and gathered." VIII. Autumn came with her easel and painted the landscape with beauty, Trailing her crimson garments to herald a song of thanksgiving. Up from the teeming earth a voice re-echoed her gladness, And insect choirs sang hymns, as we welcomed the harvest home. FOR CONSCIENCE'S SAKE. 841 IX. With means from my practice I purchased a terreno for seventy pesos, From the emigrant road to the river, the first that was bought by our people. In the summer of eighty and eight, with Sarah's help and the children's, I completed the first adobe house, the "corner stone of a city.'' * * * * Aloft in the eastern sky the sun still rises in splendor, — Looks down on a fruitful valley, on miles of limitless prairie, Whose arms have brought from the distance, and hold in its heaving bosom Strength and life, and a people who have made the desert to blossom. Still to the south and the west lies the peaceful Mexican village; Still flows the river northward to empty itself in the Great Lake. Here stands a flourishing city; but where are the hearts that so grandly Throbbed in harmonious accents to strengthen and lighten a nation? They who suffered and cried not; — who gave up their homes and their kindred, Walking with naked feet, for the sake of the conscience within them? "Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them; — Thousands of throbbing hearts where theirs are at rest and forever; Thousands of aching brains where theirs no longer are busy; Thousands of toiling hands where iheirs h^ve ceased from their labors; Thousands of weary feet where theirs have completed their journey." — Oh, pause by your hearthstones a moment, as you gather around with your children, To instil in their hearts the same faith, oh, tell them "The Pioneer Story." Colonia Duel n, Mexico. Meaning of Our Flag. It means that every citizen of the Republic, native or naturalized, must be protected at home in every state, abroad in every land, on every sea. It means that all distinctions based on birth and blood have perished from our laws; that our government shall stand between labor and capital; between the weak and the strong; between the individual and the corporation; between want and wealth; and give and guarantee simple justice to each and all. It means that there shall be a legal remedy for every wrong. — Ingersoll.