How Elsa Came From Germany

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Elsa was very quiet during the days that followed when her companions told in angry tones how the 'Mormons' had baptized five people in the last month and how they had heard that Edith as well as her parents was among the number. Of course, Edith was no longer in school, and Elsa reflected that very soon her school days, too, would be over. She said no more to her mother about it. In fact she said much less to her about anything than formerly, but she watched with suspicious eye, ever dreading the time when her mother should unite herself with the despised new sect. Once the anxious mother tried to persuade her to read the Book of Mormon. She listened patiently, but painfully, to the wonderful story as narrated by her mother, to the defense her mother made of the people so much despised, and to the earnest, soulful plea for a fair judgment. Then she arose, and in the most haughty manner she had ever assumed, assured the earnest pleader, that never so long as she lived would she pollute herself by taking in her hands even a leaflet that the vile "Mormons" had carried. With that she left the room, and the subject became to both of them forbidden ground. A year went by. And still the mother prayed and hoped, and still the maiden nursed her hatred for the creed she was too proud to try to understand. One day, led by the same good angel that had been charged with Elsa's keeping, there came into the store a stalwart stranger in the uniform of the German soldier. He purchased at the stand a tiny spray of forget-me-nots, and while Mrs. Miller was getting the change, remarked: "I have been told, madam, that your name is Miller. Am I right?" "Quite right," the woman answered, returning the change. "Of what interest can my name be to you?" "Of very great interest, my good woman," he replied. "My name is also Miller. I am trying to collect the names of all the Millers, in the hope that we may trace relationships, and in the end establish one great family tree. Pardon me, Mrs. Miller, but I have also been told that you are interested in 'Mormonism.' Am I right again?" For a moment the woman hesitated, overcome with fear. Then she reasoned that only the 'Mormons' themselves know who are their investigators, and she answered frankly: "Yes, you are right again. I have been reading carefully for many months. What do you think about the 'Mormons?' " "So much that I am one of them," he answered, extending his hand. She grasped it warmly and invited him to come inside and talk over some points of doctrine with her.

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Elsa had come to the door that divided the living room from the store, at the sound of the stranger's voice. Now she sat with her book on a low stool behind a huge basket of long-stemmed, scarlet roses. "It is this tract," began Mrs. Miller, as she took from a high shelf an inoffensive looking little pamphlet and handed it to the stranger. "This is the one that is hardest to understand." "And most comforting when once we begin to understand it," he added. "Let me tell you a little of my experience. Three years ago my mother died. She had been a good woman, always seeking for light, but never quite satisfied with her religion. When she had been dead for about a year, she came to me one night in a dream. Her long, thick hair hung down her back unkempt; her face was drawn as with sorrow; her eyes were red with much weeping ; and still she wrung her hands and wept. When I awoke in the morning the dream was fixed in my mind. When I went to sleep again at night it was repeated. And night after night, night after night, my mother came to me, always as at first, unkempt, sorrowing, weeping. "The dream worried me at first; and when it was so oft repeated, I grew distracted. 'What does my poor mother want me to do?' I asked myself, 'why is she so distressed?' "Mother had taught me prayer when I was a little child. So now I prayed earnestly to God to let me understand what I was to do for my sainted mother. A few days later, when I came to my boarding house, the landlady said; 'Those men have left some more of their vile tracts, today. They are in your room.' "On reaching my room I found them: 'Faith, Repentance, and Baptism? and this one, 'Salvation for the Dead.' "I sat down at once and began to read. Believe me, Mrs. Miller, I almost devoured this tract, 'Salvation for the Dead.' It was the thing I wanted. It was what mymother wanted. 'I'm going to Utah to save my parents,' I said to myself that night. 'I have no money, but if I have to walk half the way, I shall go

there where the holy temples are built!' "That night my mother did not come. "I began to hunt up our genealogy; and by spending much time and all my earnings, I have traced our family line back to the year, 1700. When I had finished this work, my mother visited me once again. This time she was dressed in white. Her hair was in smooth braids above her brow. A smile of peace was on her face. And when I cried out, 'Oh, mother, am I doing right?' she clasped her hands joyfully and vanished. I know that what I am doing pleases her, and I shall go on to a finish. Mrs. Miller, there is no guess work about it. 'Mor-

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monism' is true! / know it is true! And I would die rather than give it up!" He turned his head and caught the solemn, upturned eyes of Elsa as she was watching him from behind the roses. From the moment she heard his testimony and looked into hie honest eyes, the girl knew that she would be a "Mormon." But the struggle was not over. Satan also knew, and it was his part to put up as hard a fight as possible. When Mr. Miller was gone, Elsa began to argue with herself: "Oh, he thinks he is so smart! I know as much as he does. He knew I was behind the roses, and was talking for my benefit. Look at the beautiful church where I worship, and then at the poor little shabby hall where the 'Mormons' gather!" She could not quite argue herself out of it, though her pride certainly made a bold stand. Once when she felt sure that neither her mother nor her friends would know, she attended a "Mormon" meeting, in order to have some fun — to find something to ridicule. Of course, in that frame of mind no real good could come of her going; but she could not help seeing the earnestness of the worshipers, nor feeling that, at least it was no laughing matter. From that time she lost her bouyancy of spirit; there was a constant struggle going on in her mind. It affected her physically, so that her appetite failed, and sleep forsook her. The family physician was consulted, but failed to diagnose satisfactorily. Her mother became anxious, but found no solution to the trouble. With herself, the girl argued constantly "You know it is true, you are too proud to own it, what if — you should die? You would not be saved, you must but your — friends will all desert you you will lose your good name vou— will lose all, ail!" One by one she read the tracts she found on the high shelf where her mother kept them. How hungrily she read them! What solace and comfort they brought! Then she decided to go again to hear the "Mormons" preach. She could hardly wait for Sunday. As she sat and listened, prayerfully this time, to the explanations of the gospel, such a flood of joy and gladness swept into her soul, that she felt herself ready for baptism at once; she told her mother that night when they were going to bed; and the two white-robed figures sat long in the dying fire light clasped in each others arms, one in faith, one in hope, one in desire.

It was a dark, dismal, rainy night in early September. Very few pedestrians were abroad, and these carried their umbrellas low, or wore caps close over their faces to protect them

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from the driving rain. No pretty face could attract notice on a night like this, no figure however grotesque, receive attention. Slowly and carefully the two elders led the way through the less frequented streets of the city, over the smoothest walks of its suburbs, along the narrow footpath on the river's bank. Elsa and her mother followed, each enveloped in a long, gray cloak and carrying a small bundle under her arm. The young soldier musician came last with the measured step and lofty bearing that his army life had taught him. They spoke seldom, and when they did it was low and subdued. "Mother, dear," said Elsa, drawing close to her side, "surely it right! is But the night is so dark! It is as if heaven frowned." "The darkness is our protection, my Elsa," replied the mother. "Do you not remember how the crowds followed and hissed and threw stones when Brother and Sister Hafen were baptized? With us it will all be peace because of the rain that is sent of heaven." Elsa was silent again, but the awful struggle with doubt and fear and dread went on. Satan was putting forth a last mighty effort to keep her from joining God's people. She feared the persecution that she knew would come. She dreaded the loneliness and shame when all her friends should turn away in derision and scorn, when they would point her out in the streets, when they would turn from meeting her as they had turned from Edith Kjer. She doubted, not that the gospel was true, but that she should be strong enough to hold out, that it was even wise to embrace it just now. Elsa was a child of light, and the darkness was so terrible. "We must be very near the place," remarked Elder Johnson, who was leading the way. "I think it is a quarter of a mile farther," answered Elder Christensen. "I remember this clump of willows." r ->

Elsa raised her eyes and noticed a very unusual commotion in the sky. Great clouds were hurrying across the face of the heavens at a speed she had never seen before. The rain had ceased. Gradually the path began to grow distinct, and objects a short distance away took form. In a few minutes more they reached the place, a secluded cove in the river Elbe, where several times before the elders had performed the ordinance $f baptism. A few solemn moments were given to prayer and instrution,and then Elder Johnson went down into the water, eve* as John went when the Blessed Lamb of God came to him for baptism. Elsa was to be first. As she threw aside her cloak and took the outstretched hand of Elder Johnson, a glorious

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flood of light streamed out from amid the scudding clouds, and the great full face of the moon looked down, smiling and approving. Elsa's mother had made for her a looie, white robe, for her baptism, and on it had embroidered her name and the date of the ordinance. As the white-robed figure paused a moment to carefully feel the way, Henry Miller beheld in her a picture of loveliness that might never be erased from his memory. What Elsa saw was the light. Never in art gallery, or grand opera, or spectacular stage effect in the great theaters, had she seen anything so wondrously beautiful, so sublimely grand. There was the calm face of the water with the flood of moonlight upon it. On the far side the trees and bright colored shrubbery were mirrored in never ending depths of peace and stillness. Near at hand the handsome soldier stood with folded arms, the humble Elder Christencen sat upon a huge stone, and Elsa's mother, also robed in white, stood waiting with a look so pure and serene she might have been the guardian angel whom God had sent to give comfort to the young girl. In the distance, through the vista of trees twinkled the lights of the city, and across the sky dark clouds were still scudding away. A moment the big dark hulk of a river steamer obtruded itself into the perfect loveliness; but it was transient, as are many of the sorrows, as well as many of the joys of life. Elder Johnson gently drew the young woman into the water, and according to the pattern set by Christ himself, she came into the fold at the strait gate.

The loss of friends and society was all Elsa feared it would be. But she had her mother, and the two found such infinite joy in the gospel, that they were fully compensated. And now the handsome soldier began to visit frequently. He, too, was enjoying the spirit of his conversion, and many a glad hour was spent by the three in discussing the subjects of their faith. Sometimes the mother occupied her time with other things, and then the young people talked of other themes. When Henry felt himself unable to express himself in words, he spoke to Elsa in the sweet tones of his violin. But Henry must go to Utah. His mother's happiness depended upon the temple work he was preparing to do. He could not ask Elsa to marry him, for he was only a common soldier, and her mother would never consent. But he used to say, "why can't we go to Utah together?" And Elsa understood. In his constant study of the gospel the young man was building up a great faith; and now in the thought of going so far from the girl he loved without even the promise that she

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HOW ELSA CAME FROM GERMANY 591

would sometime follow, he prayed to God for guidance. His prayer was answered by a dream. In this dream he crossed the ocean and in a strange land came into a magnificent building, where, in the presence of a throng of men and women all dressed in white, he was married to Elsa. So Henry was satisfied, and hurried his preparations for departure. There was no proposal, and no acceptance. He pressed the hand of her at parting and whispered: "We will leave it with God. He will open up the way for you to come how I do not know, but trust him. You will come." Two months later Elsa was very sick with inflammatory rheumatism. When she was moved she was lifted on a sheet. She writhed and moaned and screamed with pain. The roses faded from her cheeks and the sparkle from her eye. It seemed to every one who saw her that surely she must die. Repeatedly the elders administered without seeing any change. Then they called a fast. All the missionaries in Germany and as many of the Saints as would join them were to fast on the last day of the year and offer prayer for the recovery of the lovely girl who had been the "Flower of Meisen Valley." Very few, indeed, were the Saints who did not join. One crippled old woman who made boxes for a living, brought to the elders an offering of money the next Sunday, because she had fasted for Elsa. The dawn of the New Year was ushered in with great noise of whistles and bells and cannons and shouting, according to the custom in Germany. And Elsa lay with swollen feet and legs, screaming with pain, and sick unto death. When she knew she was alone she folded her hands and prayed: "Oh, Father, I can stand it no longer! Please to take me home!" There was a knock at the door. "Come in," called Elsa. No one came; but a shock as of an electric current went through her frame. The pain was gone. The suffering ceased. The sickness was healed. The girl knew that only the weakness remained as a witness of her affliction. She looked at the clock. It was ten. In fifteen minutes, Elder Johnson came in and told her how they had met together in fasting and prayer, and how at ten o'clock they had received the unmistakable assurance that all was well. Through that glad New Year's day and the following night it seemed to the girl that her room was filled with unseen personages, and that they were there for her protection. "It is surprising how she has recovered," said one of Dresden's greatest physicians to Elsa's mother a few weeks later.

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"It is strange and wonderful, but she can never stand another attack. If the disease returns she will die." "What must I do to prevent another attack?" asked the anxious mother. "She must go away. She must have other air and altitude. On the coast of the North Sea she will be well." "No not on the coast of the North Sea, Sister Miller," said Elder Johnson in calm deliberation, as they discussed the situation by the fireside that evening, "but in Utah. In all the world there is no better place for Elsa. She will grow well and strong in our pure, dry, mountain air; and she will be at home with the people of God." Elder Johnson wondered afterward at his boldness in thus declaring the air of Utah to be good for rheumatism; but he had spoken as he was directed, and in this case he was not mistaken. "I cannot let her go! What do I know about Utah? The ways of the people, their homes, their food, even their language — all are strange! And she is so tender, my darling Elsa! Whowill take care of her, if she gets sick again?" "She will be in Zion, and she will be well," urged the elder. "Oh, mother, it will be best for me. Do let me go!" pleaded Elsa. It took a great deal of argument, but at last when one of the missionaries assured them that she could find a home in Utah with his mother; and when the dream-angel had soothed the mother heart to rest, it was settled. "Elsa, darling," the mother said firmly, "you may go to Utah." "Mother, dear — "I dreamed, my daughter, in my dream I saw a neat little cottage. Within on a bed of snowy whiteness, lay my Elsa with — an infant in her arms a beautiful baby girl with blue eyes and golden hair. In the background I saw a man of noble bearing, his features indistinct in the semi-darkness. I knew he was her husband." From that time until the day of departure there were no more tears. In the weeks that followed, the woman planned and worked in preparation for the departure. The fond grandparents wrote of hearts that were breaking with sorrow. But the mother spoke not of her pain, though neighbors noticed that the few weeks had streaked her glossy brown hair with silver. When they were packing the trunk Elsa saw many a piece of dainty underwear and serviceable linen to go into it that she had never seen before, and she knew in a vague way, that the great mother sorrow was being lessened by the sacrifice of love.

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"Are those the table linens you bought last Christmas, mother?" Elsa asked, bending over the trunk. "Yes, dear." "I will not have them, mother. You are giving me everything." "I want you to have them for your home in Utah." Elsa wondered if her mother were thinking of the soldier, but she dared not ask.

The last hours before the departure were spent by mother and daughter alone in a little cabin of the great steamer. There was little to be said, for these two women had been saying to each other for weeks the love and fear and hope that was in their hearts. They sat closely enfolded in each other's arms, the mothers frame shaking with sobs, the daughter tenderly caressing, as tears rolled down her cheeks; "Mother, dear," whispered Elsa, "what if I had died?" I came so near to death when I was sick!" "Yes," sobbed the mother, "Yes, and now you are going — away. And I shall never see you again in life." She added the last two words after a pause in which the thought of the glorious resurrection came to her. "Do not say that, mother. I shall surely come back to visit you. I could not go if I did not think that. Five years will soon go, and by that time I can come." With such bright dreams does hope ever dispel the grief of youth. The older woman's experience had taught her the uncertainty of hope. "I have asked Elder Peterson to look after you on the voyage and until you reach Salt Lake City," she answered. "He is so full of spiritual strength, so kind, he has promised to be like a brother to you — "I shall be safe, mother. The kind heavenly Father — "Yes, yes, dear. The heavenly Father will care for you, and in the end all will be well. We must remember, though, that sometimes the heavenly Father allows us to suffer bitter trials, even as his Only Begotten Son was brought down to Gethsemane, in order to bring about his will. We must strengthen our faith for these times of trial. Let us kneel, Elsa, and pray together once more before I must leave the ship." And the women prayed. First Elsa offered her simple petition for safety, and for heaven's care and comfort for her mother. Then the mother in fervent, piteous appeal invoked the favor of God in behalf of her only child, her hope, her comfort, her light. The great gong was sounding before they left their knees.

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With one long, clinging embrace the mother tore herself away and sent Elder Peterson to speak comfort to his charge. Elsa's spirits soon revived. Youth and hope and the new outlook on life were in her favor. And she was going to /ion, to the place where right was law, where people knew the Lord and served him, where there would be many friends, where she would not be sick, and where she felt sure the soldier musician waited. There were hours of homesickness on the way, and after the arrival, too. It took go long to get over the feeling of wanting to turn to mother as in the days of old. And there was so much responsibility in being all alone. But when Elsa could turn her eyes toward the beautiful temple, new courage came to her and despondency fled. She had been in Salt Lake City for two weeks and had not seen or heard of Henry Miller. Why did he not seek her? Had he forgotten? How could she find him? In her innocence and simplicity she went to the Lord and asked him to direct her, if it was his will, that they should be united, to send her lover to her. With all the sincerity of her soul she prayed, and then went cheerfully about her tasks, confident that her prayer was heard. The next afteroon, as she sat busy with some mending, she heard voices and, looking from the window, saw Henry Miller and several others entering the house. "We have come to take you to Lehi," Henry said, when first greetings were over and there was no question in the girl's mind ;

as to whether or not she would go. How speedily now, and how naturally there came about the fulfilment of events! First, it was the wedding in the holy temple, amid the white robed throng; then it was the vicarious work for the salvation of Henry's mother, and hosts of other ancestors; then it was the cosy little home where love and happiness were warbled forth in song by Elsa, and poured out in the melting tones of the violin by her husband; and then, after a while, there came a day when Henry wrote to the mother over sea: "There came to us this morning a beautiful baby girl, with blue eyes and golden hair. All well." Thus by significant dreams and inspired thoughts did her guardian angel shape the course of this humble daughter of a distant land, and to bring her to our peaceful vales in the tops of the mountains, to be one with God's chosen people.

© Underwood & Underwood, N. Y.

TRANS-ATLANTIC FLIGHT 1

The upper picture represents the No. 1 —one of the giant sea-planes which are being prepared for trans-Atlantic flig'it, at the United States Naval Air Station, Rockaway Point, N. Y. It is built to rise from and land on water. The machine is a bi-plane, and the top wing has a spread of 126 feet 6 inches. There is a 12 foot gap between the upper and lower wings, at the engine section; while the width of the wings is 12 feet. Three twin propellers, each with two blades, are turned by three Liberty motors of 400 horsepower each. Probably before the No. 1 is completed another motor may be added, making a total of 1600 horsepower. It is expected that the ship will have a crew of five men, each a skilled pilot, and will take turns at flying it.

The lower picture, representing the British trans-Atlantic airship, R. 33, is It made its debut recently at Shelby, the largest of its kind in the world. Yorkshire, England, and on its maiden flight remained three hours in the air, and reached an altitude of 2,000 feet. The photo shows the R 33 rising gracefully from the ground while the joyous workers and spectators let forth a volley of cheers.

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Home Poems [Mr. J. Y. Card, of Cardston, Alberta, Canada, sends the Era the following poem by Mr. William Laurie, a barrister, of Cardston. He adds: "His two sons, Douglas and Telford, have been through the thick of the fight in Europe. Douglas left when he was nineteen and Telford when he was 22 years of age, in 1915 and 1916 respectively. They have both seen active service and both been wounded. These boys are the only children of Mr. Liurie and his wife, having come here from Battleford, Saskatchewan, to make their final home among the people of Cardston. Mr. Laurie is a highly respected citizen and a very capable lawyer. The poem was written when the news reached him of the home-coming of his younger son. He expects that the other son will follow shortly." Editors.]

The Lad is Coming Home

Say, folks, great news! the lad is coming hornet His ship has sailed; our boy is on the foam. His Dad can talk of nothing else but his returning boy; While Mumsie weeps and smiles, and weeps again for joy, To think that soon she'll fold him to her breast, — — Who left a kid, and now grown man seeks rest. For four long years she's fretted day by day, Dreading to hear that on the battlefield he lay; And now, for truth, this news too good would seem, And worries of past days are but a frenzied dream.

Each night beside her bed the mother bends the knee And sends a prayer to God above for him at sea; — — While Dad that's me is walking as on air, To think that soon there'll be no vacant chair.

We're proud, you say? Well, I'd tell a man we were, To know our lad has done his bit "out there;" And prouder still to know he did not stay Till forced to go; he hied himself away Across the sea to share the Empire's fight For truth and justice and for God and right.

He's coming home to us alive and well From Flanders' fields, back from the jaws of hell! But on his sleeve he wears the little golden bar Which tells that he has spilled his blood in war. "Twas German shrapnel on the bloody field of Somme That made old Blighty for many months his home.

"I've not yet done my bit," he wrote his Dad; "But I've done some." So wrote the brave young lad, As back to France he went, yet once again, To face the cooties, gas, and mud, and rain.

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No "cushie" job for him, nor "safety first," But where old Fritzie tried to do his worst, At Paschendael and Lens and Vimy Ridge, Cambrai and Amiens, and that little bridge Where many sons of Canada lay down Their dear young lives to save the Empire's crown; Finishing at Mons, on that November day Where German hordes, at last being brought to bay, Cried "Kamerad," and, throwing down their arms, Gave rest at last from war and war's alarms.

Small wonder, then, his Dad with joy is wild, And Mumsie yearns once more t' embrace her child. Small wonder that his mother toils till late To make good things for darling boy to "ate," While Dad, each day, is searching everywhere To find the biggest, fattest goose that e'er Drew breath. No fatted calf for us: our boy Has never cost a pang except of joy.

And while we jubilate o'er son's return, We strive to think of those who mourn For those dear ones who died that we might still Live on in peace and plenty and good will.

The days were long while he was overseas, But none seemed half so long as these While waiting for the word, his ship is here, That soon his face his parents' hearts will cheer. Cardston, Alberta, Canada Win. Laurie

The American Ace The dull, gray dawn was hanging low, The air was naught but mist, When from a tent an "ace" appeared And shook his heavy fist. His face was turned toward Germany, His eys were steely gray, He set his lips and grit his teeth, And turned the other way.

He gave a signal with one word, A man was at his side, A whispered word, and all was still, A flap was drawn aside. He donned his cap and mackinaw, And strode inside the tent; He tested planes and tightened wires, Then to the clouds he went.

on he went towards Germany, Straight His plane was working fine, When all at once he spied a town, The one he wished to find.