Belonging to Heaven, page 14
Kaleohano nodded. “It was fortunate we were coming to see you today.”
“So fortunate,” George said in Hawaiian.
“I suggest that we have something to eat, and then we have another surprise to show you,” Jonathan said. “I think it will be something you like.”
At the moment George could not imagine something he would like better than seeing his missionary companion—or having something in his stomach other than potatoes.
***
George loved taking a ride in the afternoon gloaming—the breeze picked up, sweeping away the scratchy heat of the day, and the birds trilled their evening revelry. For the first time in weeks George felt calm, and he and Brother Keeler, who rode with him on the sorrel mare, added their voices to the birdsong. They sang the hymns of Zion and a few pioneer ballads, and then listened in wonder as Kaleohano sang hymns in Hawaiian, his rich baritone voice seeming to still the twilight with its beauty. Someday I will sing the hymns in Hawaiian, George promised himself. He looked over his left shoulder to watch the huge golden sun as it settled like a crown on the island of Lanai. The golden sun of Maui—Maui the demi god—Maui the trickster. He urged his horse up next to Napela.
“Did you know that when I met with Mr. David Malo one of the topics we discussed was the similarities between the ancient Hawaiian culture and that of the Israelites.”
Both Jonathan and Kaleohano nodded. “Oh, yes, it was a topic we used to discuss when we were classmates at Lahainaluna Seminary.”
“I loved the story where he compared Joshua from the Old Testament with the Hawaiian legend of Maui the trickster.”
“That sounds like a fascinating story, Brother Cannon. I’d love to hear it,” Brother Keeler said.
“Well, I’m sure I can’t tell it like Mr. Malo did, but I’ll give you an idea. I hope my Hawaiian does it justice.” He sat quiet for a moment, organizing his thoughts. “The story goes that Maui’s mother wanted more daylight so she could beat the kapa cloth, and, being the loving son that he was, Maui secured a strong rope, climbed to the top of Haleakala, and flung the rope around the sun, stopping it in its place for several hours. The connection is to the story of Joshua when, with priesthood power, he stopped the sun in its course.”
“And over the years it has melded into the stories of the Hawaiians?” Brother Keeler questioned.
“Well, that’s the theory.”
The party came over a small rise, and George saw a large open-sided hale. Several men were working on the roof to secure the new thatch.
Jonathan grinned at him. “So, here is your third surprise, Brother George. I have had my men build you a hale for preaching.” George sat staring at the building, which was large enough to hold fifty people comfortably. He did not speak, and Jonathan shifted in his saddle. “Do you not like it?” George still did not speak, and Jonathan tried to mollify his disappointment. “Someday soon we will build a proper wooden chapel here, but I thought for now this could be a covering for you. We could even put a stone basin in the ground nearby, deep enough for your immersion baptisms.”
George pulled his gaze away from the hale to look at his friend. “Why did you do this, Brother Jonathan? After all the trouble I’ve caused you?” His voice thickened with emotion. “You are not even of our faith. Why did you give us this great gift?”
“You are my friend, Brother George, and you work hard at being a missionary. You deserve a place to preach.”
“This is extremely good of you, Mr. Napela,” Brother Keeler said. “Very generous.” He thumped George on the shoulder. “Come on, George, shall we go and take a closer look at it?” He slid off the rump of the horse and began walking to the hale.
“Now there is a man of practical sense,” Kaleohano said. He dismounted and followed, leading his horse along.
When Kaleohano was several paces away, George turned to Jonathan. “Thank you, Brother Jonathan. I will pray to the Lord to bless you for this kindness.”
Jonathan nodded. “Blessings for Kitty too?”
“Of course. I pray for you both daily.”
“That is good to know.” Jonathan leaned over and patted his horse’s neck. “The persecution continues against us. Some already call me a Mormon for my association with you.”
“I will also continue to pray that the Lord will give you the strength to stand against your trials and to decide.”
Jonathan attempted a smile. “That is one of the things I came to discuss with you, Brother George. Can I not take a center course between the Protestants and the Mormons?”
George shook his head. “There is no center course, Brother Napela. One Lord, one faith, one baptism. I know that you have felt the truth of the words I have taught you. There is light in you, but that light will become darkness if you do not obey what the Lord wants you to do.”
“But it is difficult.”
George’s horse stepped sideways and George reined him in. He felt acutely his youth compared with Napela and the fact that he was without rank or position, yet the Spirit worked on him so forcefully that he knew he had to speak the truth. “There is no easy way in this. Do you think life was easy for the Jewish men who Jesus called to follow him? Do you think it was easy for the fifteen-year-old Joseph Smith to stand against the doctrine and preachers of the day? Do you think it is easy for me to be here, far from home, eating potatoes, and struggling with the language?” Tears of frustration coursed down his cheeks. “Do you think it was easy for the Savior to carry his cross to Calvary? If you wish to belong to heaven, Brother Jonathan, there is no easy way.”
A look of pleading stamped itself onto Jonathan’s handsome face.
George reached over and laid his hand on his arm. “I am sorry, dear friend. I wish there were words I could say that would comfort you. I wish I could make the decision easy for you and Kitty, but there is no center course.” And with another look at his friend, George dismounted his horse and headed for the hale.
***
The next day, George paced outside the newly built hale, while a dozen Hawaiians gathered inside. These dear native people had come to hear the Mormon preacher tell them of the doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in their own language, and George could not remember a word.
Brother Keeler came out to console him. “Can I do anything for you?”
“Take my place.”
“Sorry, I would only be able to greet them, say a prayer, and direct them home.”
“I can’t do this, Brother Keeler. My Hawaiian is hemahema.”
“What does that mean?”
“Clumsy.”
Brother Keeler scoffed. “My Hawaiian is hemahema. Your Hawaiian is beautiful.”
George shook his head. “Perhaps when I’m speaking to one person, but you know how I am about speaking in front of a crowd.”
Brother Keeler looked over at the hale. “Well, I’d hardly consider twelve a crowd.”
George scowled at him. “I feel like a prisoner under the sentence of death. I’ve only spoken to a few people in congregation, and that was in my mother tongue, and now I’m supposed to give these good people a grand sermon in their own language?”
Brother Keeler watched him pace. “So, don’t give them a grand sermon. Just teach them a few simple truths and let the Spirit take it to their hearts.”
George stopped and looked at his companion. “Thank you, Brother Keeler. That is wise counsel.” He took several deep breaths and headed for the little church building. As he stepped into the hale, everyone turned to look at him, and he felt the momentary urge to run. Instead, he walked to the front of the assembly and looked into the beautiful brown faces. He saw Kaleohano smiling at him. He knew that Napela would not be in attendance, as he’d left before dawn to return to Wailuku. George said a silent prayer for the Lord to bless the good man and his family. He then said a prayer that the Lord would be with them in this little gathering in Pulehu. Where two or three are gathered in my name. He felt the comforting peace of the Spirit filling his soul. He opened his mouth and haltingly began teaching about faith, repentance, and baptism.
Notes
Potato cultivation in the area of Kula was a good enterprise during the California gold rush. When the gold rush declined, so did the market for Kula-grown potatoes.
One of the first LDS meetinghouses in Maui was located in Pulehu. The original grass hale was replaced by a wooden chapel near the location. It is still standing and can be visited by the general public.
Chapter 20
Keanae, Maui
July 1851
Dear Mary,
It is the end of July and I am temporarily at a village called Keanae. I traveled here with Brother Keeler, Kaleohano, and Napela. Keanae is on the windward side of the island, which means it gets a lot of rain. It is more beautiful than I can describe. It is thirty or so miles from the Kula area. Brother Keeler has been trying to preach to the people here for a month. They are very interested, but his Hawaiian is still awkward. I already wrote to you about the hale that Brother Napela built for us. Well, we have had several baptisms, and I expect a few more when I return. It seems a bit of light has come through the darkness.
On this side of the island, hundreds of small streams and rivers pour down from the mountain Haleakala. These rivers cause deep gorges, and it makes travel very difficult. Some of the pali are so steep that we have to get off our horses and lead them. And if the stream is swollen with water from the rain, we have to swim across. There is no other way to get to this side of the island except to walk or ride a horse as the trail is not big enough for a wagon. Everything the people need on this side of the island they have to carry in on their backs. I suppose one could go by canoe on the ocean, but as I am prone to seasickness, I will gladly walk or ride my horse.
This area, Mary, reminds me of scenes I had pictured out in my imagination—vegetation of the most luxuriant description, with the timber in general covered from the root upward in living green vines that run over everything. I have never seen anything to compare with it. We met a good many travelling on the road—very often rounding a point we would see two or three dusky faces peering round to catch sight of us—the females, with very few exceptions, wore garlands of flowers upon their heads. I would like to see you, and Anne, and Leonora with such garlands in your hair.
There was a great excitement among the people when we descended the steep trail into Keanae. It seems they had been watching for us, and seeing us approach from a long distance, they had gathered to meet us. Had we been princes, Mary, they could not have treated us with greater consideration and honor. They are anxious to hear our words. Even with my feeble preaching, they drink it in like water on dry ground.
A miracle occurred the second day we were in Keanae, Mary, and I feel like shouting Glory, Glory, Glory to the Lord God of Israel for his goodness to me—a poor weak instrument, a mere boy. As I stood to preach that second morning, I felt weak and empty. I requested their prayers, and I was truly blessed. I never preached with such power—the language came with ease and fluency, and I was filled with the Spirit with words and ideas. After the meeting we baptized thirty-one people. This day was as happy a day as I ever experienced, Mary. The Lord is truly aware of us.
I thought of you and the family on the 24th of July. Was there a celebration? It seems like a long time ago when I first saw the valley. It must be very different now with so many more Saints gathering to Zion. I will hardly know the place, or any of you when I return. Thank you for sending the Deseret News. It makes me feel close to you when I read what’s going on. Thank you for your prayers. You are in my prayers every day. Children, help Charles and Mary harvest the garden. The world has no use for a drone.
Your loving brother,
George
Chapter 21
Oloalu, Maui
October 1851
Jonathan Hawaii Napelakapuonamahanaonaleleonalani stepped from the carriage, and the people of the village gathered around him—anguish and expectation washing their faces. Jonathan looked for the face of the old kahuna and for Ipakula the wonderful dancer, but knew he would not find them for they had walked the rainbow years ago. Jonathan reached out, and several came to lay their hands briefly on his arm. He walked slowly through the village, and the people followed. He saw the thatch of many of the hales in disrepair. He did not hear the sound of the kapa beaters or see the women weaving the nets. Memories flooded in of his years spent here. He thought of the games he loved as a boy—na hei, string fingers, and ho‘olele lupe, kite flying. He thought of the competitions of pae i ka nalu, surfing, or spear throwing. He thought of his mother making him balance on the round stone.
“You can stay up there a little longer! Balance, balance, boy with legs like sticks! This will make your legs strong for running and climbing the coconut tree.”
Jonathan pulled his mind from the past and continued his walk to his family kauhale. As he neared the lava stone wall surrounding the compound, he found it was the same, but his mother’s New England gate sat askew on a broken hinge. He hadn’t noticed that the last time he visited. Perhaps he should stay awhile and put things in order. He walked to the gate and carefully pushed it to the side.
“This gate needs fixing.”
One of his mother’s serving women stepped to the stone wall. “We are sorry, Judge, but your honored mother did not want us to touch anything.”
Jonathan looked at her and nodded. “Of course, forgive me.” He continued on across the courtyard to the halenoa, while the rest of the people stood on the other side of the stone wall. Jonathan prepared himself for a sorrowful scene as he chanted the words that announced his arrival and called for permission to enter. He was glad when he heard the low mellow notes of his mother’s voice sending back words of welcome. He walked through the door and found the chiefess lying on her bed of mats, with many small pillows propping her comfortably into an almost sitting position. She beamed when she saw him.
“Ah, ‘oni kalalea ke ku a ka la ‘au loa.” A tall tree stands above the others. She reached out her arms to him, and he went into her embrace. He laid his forehead on hers.
“Aloha nui, my dear mother. I see that Lono has been here to visit you and brought you some life.”
She chuckled. “Do you think so?”
“I do.”
“Bring over some mats and sit by me.” When he was settled, she readjusted a few pillows under her arms and laid back. “Look at all the new pillows the missionary wives have made for me. They want me to be comfortable before I walk the rainbow.”
“You will not walk the rainbow for a long time,” Jonathan encouraged.
“Actually, the god Lono comes to whisper in my ear that night is coming, but that I must not to be afraid. He says that my aumakua, my spirit owl, will come and carry me to the rainbow on silent wings. And then I will go into the valley and meet my Lord Jesus.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers over the soft fabric of one of the pillows. “This is my favorite. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”
“That is one of my favorites too,” Jonathan said, thinking of the scripture as he admired the careful work of the stitching. “The missionary wives have always been very good to you.”
Chiefess Wiwiokalani opened her eyes and smiled at her son. “They have.” The smile faded. “But why does that make you sad?”
“I am not sad.”
“You are. There is a storm cloud on your face.”
Jonathan weighed his words carefully. “Mother, you know that I have always admired the Protestant missionaries. They have given me much.”
“Yes.”
“And I have tried to live by the precepts they taught us.”
“Of course, you are a Christian man.” He did not answer. “You drink a little too much for their liking, but you are a good man and you believe in the Lord Jesus.”
“I do.” He patted her hand. “And I am trying to put the drinking aside.”
“You are? Well, that is a wonderful thing.”
He noticed that her breathing was labored. “Is there anything you need, dear one?”
“I have what I need here before me.” She smiled at him and then gave him a mother’s look. “But, you have not told me the reason for your sadness.”
Jonathan lowered his head. “I have had my judgeship taken from me.”
Wiwiokalani’s voice was calm. “Tell me.”
“The charges were my drinking and that I had been associating with a man who had been dropped from the church.”
“But you are putting aside the drinking.”
“Yes.”
“And being a friend to a man is no reason to take away your position. The ministers have powerful influence in the government, but they do not have that much power.”
Jonathan nodded. “But, I believe there is another reason. A reason they will not admit.”
“And what is that reason?”
“I have been listening to the words of a preacher from another Christian church.”
“There are many Christian churches.”
“Yes, but this faith is different, and the Protestant ministers do not like it.”
“Tell me.”
“One of the missionaries of the new faith, Brother George Cannon, has become my friend. He is a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
His mother smiled. “That is a long name.”
“Many people call them Mormons.”
Wiwiokalani shifted slightly on her pillows and frowned at him. “I know this name. Some of the people in the village have listened to the words of a man named Keeler.”
“Yes. He is one of Brother Cannon’s companions.”
“And our church does not like their teachings?”
“No.”
“So perhaps there is a reason. Perhaps you should not listen to these men. Our ministers teach us about Jesus. Is that not enough for you?”
“I thought it was, but—”
