Wednesday, July 27
Tuesday, July 26
Monday, July 25
They decided to follow the new religion to America, and all in the family who could work and save toward ship's passage, did so. At one time, even little 8-year old Joseph worked in the coal mines. Thirteen years after his baptism, on June 3, 1856, Charles and William Charles left Liverpool, England on the ship "Wellfleet" for America, leaving behind a pregnant Sarah and eight other children, to follow when there was enough money to do so. Charles had heard that wages were better in American and they could save faster. They hoped in a year all would be together again. He and William found work in a factory in Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.
Sarah took in washings and did whatever she could to add to the savings fund. Her mother, Mary Hartley Mercer, helped by taking care of the younger children. The last of the children, little Elizabeth Ann, was born 22 February 1857 in Manningham, England. She later died at Lawrence, Massachusetts on 17 November 1860.
More than a year had passed and there was still not enough money for ship's passage for the ten of them. Sarah decided to do something about it. She had to be desperate by then. "That night at prayer she asked the children to each ask Heavenly Father for guidance in the matter. She led, and then the oldest boy was told to follow her, but as she finished she told him he did not have to pray, only to thank the Lord, for the plan had come to her as she prayed" (From story of one of the granddaughters, courtesy Daughters of Utah Pioneers.)
Moses, the oldest boy, was told to go to the docks, find the date of the next ship sailing for Boston, and to write his father a letter that they would be on that ship. Next day, she dressed in her best, took her smaller children to her mother to watch, and taking one boy with her, she went to "a wealthy home" where she had done laundry for years. At the front door, the maid thought she should go to the back door, but Sarah wanted to "see the master of the house on important business." The master agreed to see her and she explained her situation and told him she wanted a recommendation of her character that she might present it to other homes where she expected to ask for money. He not only gave her a lovely recommend, but gave her a pound note, equal to five dollars in American money, to start her on her way.
She went every day she could get away from home, with a boy on her arm, to the homes of the rich. Some turned her away, some helped. By the time the ship "Margaret Tyson" sailed from Liverpool in August 1857, she had enough money and some to spare. "What a heart-wrenching thing it must have been for the loving, caring relatives and friends to see Sarah and her nine children off..." And for Sarah also, leaving all she had known behind her forever.
It was a terrible trip, supposed to last three weeks, but stretched into six weeks. What a trial, with nine children to care for! After a week at sea, the ship was drifted far off course when a terrible storm hit them, and when that was over, they ran into a "calm" where the wind never filled their sails and they just had to sit it out. When they finally had the weather they needed, they were nearly out of food and water, and far south of their course. They had to land at the first port they could reach, which was New York instead of Boston.
Sunday, July 24
The trip began Thursday after I got off work. Megan (whom I had never met before) came to get me from the apartment, and after a quick jaunt to fill up her truck with camping things (like tents and... tents) we went to Springville to pick up Devon (who is both an RM and in a very serious relationship, therefore pretty much unrelated to my existence) and then we began the shrubby drive down to Moab. Devon spent much of the trip telling me exactly WHY I was excited for a mission and why it was going to suck even as it would be awesome. Good times.
Thursday, July 21
How do families with a lot of kids regulate time on the computer? My family was made up of gaming-addicts, and when we were younger there was a single PC to serve the needs of the seven of us (father included). Daddy, William, and Andrew played Ultima Online, Command and Conquer, and Age of Empires, etc. Leslie and I loved to play Baldur's Gate, more Age of Empires, etc. Emma and I loved Sims, and Moroni would play all of the above from day 1.
So, with about 6 playing hours in a day (because of school), how does one regulate playing time? We were (supposedly) allowed one hour a day per person. The Ultima Online troupe got around this easily because, one, dad was also playing and, two, because it was a MMORPG (meaning it required the internet). Remember dial-up internet? We weren't allowed to use it for more than a few minutes at a time during the day because it tied up the phone. So the men would play deep into the night. I still remember getting up at three AM and wandering out to find one of them dedicatedly hacking orcs and litches to pieces.
Otherwise, I think the greatest source of contention in our household was the matter of who's turn it was to use the computer, how long they'd been on, and how long before they were going to get off.
After a while the four of us younger kids got sick of the fighting and wrote ourselves a page-long list of rules about how turns were dictated. A PAGE. I still don't remember the particulars... mostly that no one could be on for more than an hour at a time between the hours of 8 AM and 8 PM and how turns were passed, etc. My mum thought it was brilliant and framed our list.
It wasn't long before William (recently returned from boot camp) found our list and, dismantling the frame, added some rules of his own. These included (not exactly, but to the best of my recollection):
1. Each individual waiting to begin their turn must stand at attention to the right of the computer until William notices them.
2. The individual will have their start time printed in ink on their forehead.
3. The individual will begin their turn.
4. At the end of the one-hour turn, the individual will stand again at attention to the right of the computer until William has printed the end time upon their forehead and given his signature.
His additions served to end the computer-feud, to the best of my recollection. I guess we finally realized we were taking things too seriously. Besides, whining had worked plenty fine in the past.
Tuesday, July 19
Friday, July 15
Wednesday, July 6
This is, of course, undermined by the fact that I may NOT take classes, seeing as I put my papers in during the beginning of August. But there's a good chance I could still manage to take them. We will see, right?
Also, you may have noticed I forgot to post a picture yesterday. I DID draw one. But I didn't have time to post because Grosland and I were busy defeating the stupid Chinese Dragon that we'd been stuck on for the last month.
And... victory is ours.