Belonging to Heaven, page 19
When the guests settled, Jonathan gave a welcome and said a blessing on the food; he then went from table to table visiting and making sure all was well. Brother Cannon and the other departing missionaries sat on mats around the low tables trying their best to enjoy the bounty of food and the companionship of their Hawaiian brothers and sisters, but Jonathan noticed that they did not eat much, and that beneath their smiles were tears.
Brother Hawkins was there from the Big Island, and Brothers Bigler and Farrer from Oahu. They had come for a final conference of the Church and to report their numbers. Jonathan smiled as he set another calabash of poi on one of the tables. There were now over three thousand members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the islands—most on the islands of Maui, Oahu, and Hawaii, but some on Moloka‘i and Kauai. There were Hawaiian men who held the priesthood and served as missionaries. The Book of Mormon translation was complete, and Brother Cannon was taking it to a Church-owned printing press in San Francisco to have the copies made. Many miraculous things had been accomplished in four years, and Jonathan felt humbly grateful to have been a small part of it.
A group of Saints at the far end of one of the tables began singing a lovely mele about the flowers of the islands, and Jonathan saw George leave off his conversation with Kaleohano and turn his head in the direction of the music. Leaving would be hard for him. The festivities began to take on a somber tone, and suddenly Akuna Pake was on his feet and begging the crowd for their attention. He went to the center of the hale, turning in circles, and clapping his hands.
“Here is Akuna Pake, the great storyteller of Maui!” People jeered him. “But, he will not tell you stories of Wakea and Papa our first parents. He will not tell you stories of the four gods Lono, Kane, Kanaloa, or Ku. He will not even tell you stories of the Mormon missionaries who came here to teach us the gospel of Christ, and who wore out their shirts, and shoes, and pants in doing this.” He looked at Brother Cannon as everyone laughed and made fun of him. “No! Akuna Pake will tell you the dog story.” Everyone quieted. “Once, long ago when the native people considered dog a great delicacy . . .” Several people pushed their neighbors knowing they still considered dog a great delicacy. “Long ago,” Akuna teased and the people laughed. “Long, long ago.” The people laughed harder. “Some haole merchants were invited to a feast. They had meats and fish of every kind at this feast, and among all this bounty there were a number of roasted pigs and dogs. One of the clever natives suggested, as a good trick, to sever the heads of the pigs and put them with the dogs, and take the dog heads and put them with the pigs.” Chuckles ran around the room, and Akuna Pake paused dramatically. “This they did!” Many looked over at Brother Cannon to see how he was enjoying the story and were happy to find a broad smile on his face. Akuna Pake continued. “Of course the merchants did not want to eat dog meat and would not touch any of the meat where the dog’s heads were, but they ate heartily of the meat that they thought was pig. The natives tried to get them to eat the other meat. ‘Oh no,’ they said, ‘these delicious pigs are good enough for us,’ and they would not touch the other. When the feast was over, the natives told them what they had done, and the merchants ran to the ditch and let go of their dinners.” The people roared with laughter.
“What a terrible waste of good meat!” Brother Farrer called out, and the people laughed louder, and those around the missionary thumped him on the back.
Akuna Pake sat down to much adulation, and Brother Napela moved to the center of the hale. Though still smiling, everyone quieted because of the respect they held for the royal son. Napela looked around at the missionaries, and when he spoke his tone was sober.
“I wish to promise you something from all of us.” A hush fell over the group, and the smiles left the missionaries’ faces. Napela put his hand over his heart. “We did not serve you dog meat tonight.” Kind-hearted laughter filled the room, and when Napela caught George’s glance he saw his face beaming, and his eyes filled with tears. Jonathan pushed down his emotions. “And now we will give our dear missionaries time to say good-bye.” This time the stillness in the room was complete.
Brother Hawkins spoke first. He expressed his love for the Hawaiian people, and bore his testimony of Joseph Smith and the restoration of the gospel. Brother Bigler then stood to thank the people for being patient with his awkwardness in speaking the language and for putting up with his rough manners. In tears, he told them of a dream he’d had that he would be called to serve a mission in the Sandwich Islands. When he was called instead to dig gold in the California goldfields, he had been discouraged and upset, but decided to go where the Lord had called him. If he had not accepted that call, he would not have been in California when the call came to serve in the islands. He gave them words of love from Elder Keeler who was detained on the Big Island. Next, Brother Farrer spoke of the miracles he had encountered while serving on Maui and Oahu. He told them to be careful with the truths they had been given and to be a strength to each other. When he shared how grateful he was that he had not gone home early, a flood of tears accompanied.
When it was his turn, it took Brother Cannon a long time to stand. He looked around at the people, many of whom had their faces in their hands, weeping bitterly. He took a deep breath and Jonathan knew he was praying for strength. He had seen that look many times before. He added his own prayer to that of his friend’s. George reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and brought out a letter. His voice was husky, and he had to clear his throat several times before he could actually form words.
“I . . . I bring you news from the prophet of the Church, even President Brigham Young.” Many stopped crying and looked steadfastly at the young man. “At the last general conference of the Church, twenty men have been called to serve as missionaries in the Sandwich Islands.”
For several moments there was stunned silence, and then praises were voiced and the weeping began anew. Brother Cannon put strength into his voice to quiet the din.
“I know many of these men: Joseph Peck, Orson Whitney, and Joseph F. Smith, the son of Hyrum Smith.”
Jonathan melted to tears as he thought of the great love the leaders of the Church had for the Hawaiian people to entrust them with such a treasure as the son of Hyrum Smith.
George smiled. “Now, many of you thought I was a child when I first arrived.”
“You are still a child!” someone called out.
“Thank you, ancient one,” George called back, and chuckles echoed around the room. “But, I am old compared to these. Many have not reached twenty, and Joseph F. Smith is only fifteen.” The faces of the people were filled with awe. “These will need the same love and care you have given us, and they will need your strength.” Many heads nodded in commitment to this call, and George felt a wash of emotion pour through his body. He tried to stanch the tears, but it was no use. “We . . . we are all sons and daughters of God. Ohana. One family. I will keep you in my prayers and heart.” Tears streamed down his face, and many of the Saints wept openly and loudly. George looked at Kaleohano and Napela. “You have the priesthood, you have your branch presidents, you have each other. All of these things will help you to be strong. Stand fast in the faith so that even if I do not see you again in the flesh, we will see each other in the spirit when this life is over.” All the people felt the love he had for them. “I will miss you so very very much.” George wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. In so doing, he looked like a young child, and Napela broke into sobs. The emotion ran like waves through the hale, and not even Akuna Pake could cajole them out of their sorrow.
Kitty Napela stood and came to Brother Cannon, holding Hattie in her arms. The woman and the little girl put their foreheads on his and wept with him. Hattie kept patting his face as she blubbered. A line formed behind them, and long into the night the Latter-day Saints of Maui said their good-byes to Elder George Cannon and the other dear missionaries who had sacrificed so much to serve them.
***
Jonathan had gone with George as he said his good-byes to Keala, Pau, and Nalimanui in Lahaina, and although they had never joined the Church, Jonathan could tell they held a deep love and respect for Brother Cannon. Keala and Pau were entranced by the beautiful way George spoke the Hawaiian, and the way he’d matured since they first knew him. But, Nalimanui kept calling him keiki, and scolding him for not coming more often to see her. She made him promise that he would return to see her before she walked the rainbow, which made George weep. He placed a crown of lokelani flowers on her head and thanked her many times for her kindness to the missionaries. It was only when Jonathan reminded him of the time of the boat’s departure that George turned and walked from the hale and his friends.
Now, as they stood on the busy dock at Lahaina, Jonathan watched as his friend stared out across the channel to the island of Lanai. Jonathan wondered if he was actually seeing the water and the land, or if there were other scenes flowing past his vision: scenes of clouds and rainbows in the Iao Valley, of dozens of Hawaiians standing at the water’s edge waiting for baptism, or of Hattie’s brown eyes.
Brothers Bigler, Farrer, and Hawkins came to say their alohas, and Jonathan helped them load their things in the small rowboat that would take them out to the sailing ship. They would stop in Honolulu for a time and then on to home. Jonathan turned to find Brother Cannon looking at him, holding up his new valise, and smiling a brave smile.
“Thank you again for the gift. The only problem is that Brother Bigler wants to trade his old one for mine.”
Brother Bigler called from the boat. “It’s only fair, don’t you think? He about wore mine out on his trip around the island!”
Jonathan chuckled and brought his focus back to George. “You have done well, Brother George.” He paused. “Only one slight sadness—that we could not get my Kitty into the waters of baptism.”
George gave a slight nod. “Each person must follow their own path, Brother Jonathan. She is a good woman, and has been so gracious in taking care of the missionaries.”
“And she says she will go with me, no matter where the gathering takes us.”
George smiled. “See, that is a brave thing for her to do. Do not worry, Brother Jonathan, her time will come.” He set down his case and took Jonathan’s hand. “Watch over the members. Your strength will be needed, especially when it comes to the gathering. Keep a careful eye on the policies and procedures to make sure things are in order.”
Tears filled Jonathan’s eyes as he gathered George into his arms. “Looking out for things, even to the last.”
George put his forehead on Jonathan’s. “Aloha nui loa.”
Jonathan’s voice was only a whisper. “Owau, o Nepai, ua hanauia mai la e na makua maikai.” I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents.
“Ready to shove off!” the boatman called.
Elder George Cannon picked up his valise, took one last look at his friend, and joined his brethren in the boat. His heart ached. He knew the cords of aloha, woven through his spirit, would eventually loosen, but for now the mele of the land, sky, and people tugged him back.
He squeezed his fingers around the handle of his valise and set his face Zionward.
Note
In reference to Akuna Pake’s story, the clever Hawaiian man who switched the pig and the dog heads was actually Jonathan Napela.
Hope
1868–1872
Hope
1868–1872
Chapter 31
Salt Lake City, Utah
June 1868
Brother Cannon!” The sturdy voice of Brigham Young came from his office to the ears of his secretary, and George Cannon nearly knocked over his inkwell. He secured it before it had the chance of spoiling the paper he’d been working on for the last hour. President Young came to the door of his office, and Brother Cannon looked up. “Are you nearly finished with that translation?”
“Yes, President, I’m nearly finished.” The outer door to the offices opened, and Joseph F. Smith entered. George brightened immediately. “Aloha, mikanele!” Hello, missionary.
“Aloha! Pehea ‘oe?” Hello. How are you doing? Brother Smith answered.
“Maika‘i loa.” Very good. George glanced over to President Young. “Pa‘ahana.” Busy.
President Young scowled good-naturedly. “All right, that’s enough of that. I’m not being blessed with interpretation of tongues, and I won’t have you gossiping right in front of me.” The two younger men chuckled at the President’s counterfeit annoyance. “Brother Smith, come wait in my office. I don’t need you distracting Brother Cannon when he has work to do.”
Brother Cannon stood and picked up several papers. “I can actually come now, President. There’s only a line or two left, and Brother Smith and I can translate that easily.”
“Well, come ahead then. We have much to discuss.”
President Young ushered the two men into his office and shut the door. George headed to his usual seat, and Brother Smith took the chair adjacent.
As soon as the President sat down behind his desk, he began speaking. “Brother Smith, we have received a letter from Brother Jonathan Napela at Laie, Oahu, and Brother Cannon says the content refers to crops, debt, and the status of the people gathered there. I have some concerns about the mission, and after Brother Cannon reads the letter, we are going to have a very frank discussion about the prospects of our continuing the work.” George’s heart dropped, and he knew Brother Smith’s heart was experiencing similar distress. “Now I know the feelings you two have for the Hawaiian people. You know their character and goodness, but you also know their shortcomings. That is why I want your counsel.” He looked at each man squarely. “You have both been ordained Apostles of the Lord, and, as such, it is your duty to look after the health and welfare of the Church. So, like I said, after the letter, we will have a frank discussion.” He sat back in his chair. “Please read what you’ve translated, Brother Cannon.”
George organized the papers. “May 2, 1868. To B. Young, Latter-day prophet and a great leader to all the people around the world, respectfully: May it please you. My very dearly beloved friends, Alama and Green, are leaving. We have come to know them through a long and pleasant friendship as they have come and gone often, but they are now leaving with their families. We all love them both. Therefore only Ilae and B. Kalapa remain to assist us with my president, G. Nebeker, as he does not understand our language.
“My current work is here in Laie, where I encourage my brothers to cultivate sugarcane of which there is close to eight acres and done by hand, not by plow. The cane is now growing and G. Raymond has begun using a plow. My desire is to end our poverty as we are in deep poverty. Alama and the others are leaving with nothing. I now believe that if we had the same kind of food that you have, small grains, then we would not be healthy. Our food, the taro, is large in size, and there is also the delicious sweet potato. So we survive and do without nice homes or clothes. But all the brethren are hopeful that we will benefit in the near future from the sugarcane we are planting. We are hoping that our cane will get to you through the efforts of our President G. Nebeker and that we will receive payment from him in order to buy clothes and homes. Our Father, please do not take away our President G. Nebeker.
“When we were dining together in Laie, my brethren there are accustomed to eating with their fingers to put food into their mouths. My and all our hope is to realize eating at a table with knives and forks and so forth, and a desire to end uncivilized ways in the manner of dress and socializing, whereas my brethren have received the Christian faith and no longer live as pagans. However, there is still much ignorance in their manner of dress, talking loudly, not knowing how to sit and socialize pleasantly upon chairs or sofas and eating with knife and fork. Most of the brethren are like this. Very few are accustomed to behaving in a civilized manner. However that will end in the future when our material needs are met. I continue to instruct my brethren to put an end to uncivilized ways such as wearing the native loincloth.
“The brothers are making a strong effort in cultivating food, sugarcane, and whatever tasks the President tells them to do.
“From what I have reported to you above, that the ignorant ways among my brethren have not yet ended, therefore I request that you ask our fellow brethren over there to aid us in prayer that this ignorance, in regard to their physical behavior, come to an end.
“This was my thought to you.”
George leaned over and showed Brother Smith the last lines of the letter that hadn’t been translated. Brother Smith studied the words for a moment, and then read.
“Farewell to you, our Father. May almighty God prolong your life on this earth to do God’s work. Amen. J. H. Napela.”
President Young sat for the longest time, his eyes closed, his fingers tapping. The two young apostles knew better than to interrupt his thinking, so remained silent with their own less weighty contemplations. Finally the president looked at them.
“Brethren, when I sent Hammond and Nebeker over to buy land for the new gathering place for the Hawaiian Saints, I did so with some concern. As you know, I’d written to King Kamehameha V about our plans to purchase land to gather the Saints. I told him our desire to instruct the people not only in spiritual matters, but also temporal matters. We view no system of salvation as being complete that does not provide means for the welfare and preservation of the body as well as the salvation of the Spirit.”
