Belonging to Heaven, page 8
“No, but the dream brought me great peace. It made me feel as though there are answers to our questions.”
“But, where are we to look for these answers, Jonathan?”
He grinned. “I do not think we need to look, my dear Keliikuaaina. I think the answers will come to us.”
Chapter 9
Lahaina, Maui
March 1, 1851
My dear sister Mary,
I know it has been several months since my last letter. We have been busy studying the language, and I have been unwell with stomach problems. When my Hawaiian teachers found out, they made me some arrowroot, or pia, as they call it. They mix it with water and it is very starchy, but I felt better after taking it. My teachers tell me not to worry so much, but I don’t feel the work is progressing. I know there are good people waiting for the message of the gospel. There have also been many changes in the mission. Brothers Whittle, Dixon, Blackwell, and Farrer have decided to go home. I am surprised at this as we have only been here three months. I am as anxious to go home as anyone, but I feel that my priesthood and calling have to be magnified and that if I leave the Lord will hold me accountable for not doing my duty to this people. These brethren were all discouraged with how few whites there are on the islands to teach, and they did not think of teaching the Hawaiians. Brother Dixon said that it would take more than a year to learn the language. Perhaps he did not wish to try. My desire to learn to speak is very strong. It is present with me night and day, and I try and talk with the natives often to improve it.
I will tell you, dear sister, of a gift I received from the Lord. I think it will be a good lesson for the children. For weeks I had tried to exercise faith to obtain the gift of understanding the language. One evening, while sitting on the mats conversing with some neighbors who had dropped in, I felt an uncommonly great desire to understand what they said. All at once I felt a peculiar sensation in my ears. I jumped to my feet, with my hands at the sides of my head, and exclaimed to Elders Bigler and Keeler who sat at the table, that I believed I had received the gift of interpretation! And it was so. From that time forward I have had but little, if any, difficulty in understanding what the people say. I might not be able to separate every word they speak from every other word in the sentence, but I can tell the general meaning of the whole. I feel this will be a great aid to me in learning to speak the language. I am very thankful for this gift from the Lord. So, my dear Ann, Angus, David Henry, and Leonora, I want you to know that you can trust in the Lord to answer your prayers.
I convinced William Farrer not to go home and he has since been sent here to work with Brother Bigler, Brother Keeler, and myself. I am glad, because he is a good friend and we are close in age. And, besides that, he can make me laugh, which is no little thing.
A few weeks ago, our mission president told us he received the prompting to go to the Marquesas Islands and wanted us to leave our mission on Maui and go with him. A dark cloud hung over us while we were deciding what to do. I tell you, dear Mary, I did not want to go against the president’s wishes, but each time I prayed, the Spirit whispered to me that there was a good work to be done on Maui. Finally, President Clark wrote from Honolulu and said that we need not attend him, but that he would go with Brother Morris and investigate the possibilities. The dark cloud left us after that.
I apologize that this letter is long, but there was much to tell; besides, the writing connects me to you, and I miss you. It will soon be planting season in the Valley. I hope that your and Charles’s efforts are successful. Here we grow food all year long. Normally the weather is warm and muggy, but for the past week it has been blustery and rainy and has even seemed chilly.
I pray you and the family are well. Please give my love to Uncle John and Aunt Leonora. How is the Church faring? We are trying, here in the Sandwich Islands, to build the kingdom.
Your loving brother,
George
Chapter 10
Lahaina, Maui
March 2, 1851
William Farrer stood at the side of the hut, watching George weed the garden. Actually George seemed to be doing more standing and staring at the mountains, than hoeing. William had a hoe in hand and had set out to help, but when he saw George’s obvious concentration, he felt odd at intruding. He jumped slightly when Brother Keeler came to stand beside him.
“He’s still there, I see.”
William nodded. “Yep. Still there. Still staring at the mountains. Is he praying?”
“I would imagine so, or pondering.”
“One thing’s for sure. He’s not getting much weeding done.”
Brother Keeler chuckled. “And you, Brother Farrer, how are you liking Maui?”
“I like it. There is a strong spirit of the work here.”
“Indeed. And much of that spirit is because Brother Cannon spends a lot of time standing in the garden and staring at the mountains.”
At that moment George turned to look in their direction. William waved sheepishly and held up his hoe. “I was coming to help!” he called.
“Well, come ahead!” George called back. “The field is white and brown, all ready to harvest. And you, Brother Keeler, would you fetch Brother Bigler? There is something I’d like to discuss with the three of you.”
“Of course, Brother Cannon. We’ll be right there!” In an aside to Brother Farrer, he whispered. “It seems something has come from his staring at the mountains.” He turned to go into the hut, and Brother Farrer headed out to his friend.
“Aloha,” George said as William approached. “It’s a perfect day for garden work. The sun is out, but the rain has cooled things down. It is very pleasant.”
William began hoeing. “It rained all the time on Kauai, well, a lot of the time, but it was beautiful. You’ve never seen such vegetation, George. So green and lush. It’s dry here in comparison.”
George nodded. “Well, this is the dry side of the island. I’ve been told over on the northeast side by the towns of Keanae and Hana, the vegetation is very dense.”
“Perhaps we’ll get over there someday.”
George smiled. “I think we will. I think we will see much of this island.”
William continued working. He hummed a hymn, and George sensed that his friend was glad he had not gone back to the Salt Lake Valley with the other Elders.
William stopped by the kalo patch. “I see you’re growing kalo.”
“Of course. No self-respecting Hawaiian garden would be without it.”
“Do you eat it?”
George gave his friend a half grin and shook his head. “No, we give all the kalo to Nalimanui and her family. They make it into poi.”
“Poi is one of the staples on Kauai too,” William said. “Have you ever eaten it?”
“I have.”
“What did you think of it?”
George looked around to see if the other missionaries were nearby. Not seeing them, he stepped closer to William and spoke in a low voice. “When Keala first offered me the calabash bowl that contained the poi, it smelled like a bookbinder’s old, sour paste-pot.” William stifled a laugh as George continued. “Then I put my fingers in and scooped up a glob of the purple paste, like I’d seen the Hawaiians do, and stuck it in my mouth.”
“Oh no,” William said, wide-eyed.
“Oh, yes. I put it in my mouth and gagged at it. I had to spit it out, because I knew I would have vomited if I’d swallowed it.”
“I reacted the same way when I first tasted it. To us it’s ghastly, but the Hawaiians love it.”
“They do. And the sourer it is, the better they like it.” George shook his head. “Keala has been very patient with me on learning the language and the culture, but I think that day when I spit out the poi, he was a bit disappointed.” George took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “I’ve been praying that the Lord might help me get accustomed to the taste so I don’t offend them.”
William stared at him. “That’s a tall order, if you ask me.”
Just then they heard the approaching footsteps of Brothers Bigler and Keeler, and both young men turned to greet them.
“So, Brother Cannon, you better have a very good reason for bringing me away from my studies,” Brother Bigler said in a gruff voice.
“It’s on that very subject I wish to have a discussion,” George answered, trying to put confidence into his voice. He motioned to the shade of a banyan tree. “Let’s get out of the sun.”
When they were seated under the tree, George asked for Brother Keeler to pray.
When the prayer ended, Brother Farrer piped up. “I bet this has something to do with you staring at the mountains all morning, right?”
George nodded. “It does actually. But first I want to hear from you brethren. How do you think we’re doing in learning the language?” There was silence for a time, and then Brother Keeler spoke.
“It’s coming slowly, but I think we’re all working hard at it. I think you are the best among us, Brother Cannon. You seem to understand everything that’s said.”
“That has certainly been a blessing, but I still have trouble speaking. Of course, that’s always been my problem, no matter what the language.”
No one responded to this declaration.
Brother Bigler cleared his throat. “Here’s how I look at it. We’re studying, we try to communicate with the people in their language whenever we can, and we’ve fasted and prayed for help. I think maybe we just need to be patient and realize it’s going to take some time.”
George nodded. “Brother Farrer?”
“I have a long way to go to learn the language, but I do feel the spirit of the work here. I think if we continue to fast and pray—and study,” he grinned, “then we will be blessed.”
“Well said, Brother Farrer.” George looked at each of them and stood. “Thank you, brethren, for your dedication to the work. As you know, out of the ten missionaries first called to labor here, there are only five of us left—the four of us here on Maui, and stalwart Brother Hawkins on Hawaii. The Spirit has witnessed to me that there is a great work to be done here on Maui among these good people, but we must stay strong in spirit.”
The three older missionaries watched him closely, recognizing a confidence not evident before.
George continued, unaware that he was being scrutinized. “And, we must master the language.” He paused. “I know we are doing the best we can, but I feel I can do better.” He began pacing. “I wish to get out among the people, to see how things are in other areas, and to immerse myself in the language.” He stopped pacing. “So, I have made up my mind to tramp around the north and east sides of the island until I reach Wailuku.”
Brother Bigler leaned forward. “Tramp around the island?”
“Yes.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes. That is the essence of the prompting.” The tenor of George’s voice gained strength. “I feel strongly that the Lord has prepared a people to hear the message of truth.”
There was silence. The other three missionaries stared at George and then looked at each other. Finally Brother Bigler spoke, his voice husky with emotion.
“Brothers, I think we have a David among us.”
***
George stood at the edge of yard, anxious to be off. He had planned to set off the day after speaking to the other missionaries, but his prospects had been marred by a heavy rain and fierce winds. He had reluctantly agreed to wait for a less stormy day. The morning of March 4 dawned clear with only small wisps of clouds drifting lazily in a blue sky. George woke before the sun, said his prayers, and then hastily packed shirt, stockings, garment, and books in the valise Brother Bigler was letting him borrow. He then ate two bananas and slipped out into the morning stillness. He planned to be on his way without fanfare, but it seemed that Pau was acting as a lookout, and she had called to her husband. Now George was surrounded by his missionary companions, Nalimanui, Pau, Keala, Hoohuli, and Hoohuli’s husband, the Spaniard. They were all talking at once with no attempt at any real communication. Finally Brother Bigler raised his arm and, in a booming voice, called for quiet.
“Now, I know we all want to send Brother Cannon off with our best wishes, but perhaps we could do it one at a time.”
Keala spoke up. “We do not want to send best wishes.”
Brother Bigler was surprised by this comment. “No?”
“No. It is very wet now. It will rain almost every day.”
Pau joined in. “It is not a good time for traveling.”
Hawaiian words came quickly from Nalimanui, and the word keiki was spoken several times.
Pau turned to Brother Cannon. “My mother says—”
George smiled. “Yes, I understood her. She says it is a difficult journey for a child to undertake. A child should listen to words of wisdom from those older.” George thought about the trials he had already passed through in his young life: the loss of his parents, the loss of his home, the miles he had walked on the long and barren trek from Nauvoo to the Salt Lake Valley. He looked at the dear woman with tenderness and then he looked to Pau. “Please tell her that the Lord has asked me to go, and that He will watch over me. I must do what the Lord asks me to do.”
Pau translated, and Nalimanui’s eyes filled with tears. Finally she reached out and handed him some mountain apples. She nodded and tried to smile, but her face was lined with worry.
George nodded back, putting the fruit in his satchel. “Mahalo, dear mother.” He looked at each member of the group. “And now I really must be on my way.”
“Brother Keeler and I are going to walk with you a ways,” Brother Farrer said quickly. “If that’s all right with you?”
George beamed. “Yes, I’d like that!” He turned to Brother Bigler. “Try and keep these two in line while I’m gone, will you?”
“I won’t give them a moment’s rest.” He took George’s hand. “Be safe.”
George felt a sudden reluctance to leave his familiar surroundings, and his contrived bravery gave way to doubt. He stoically pushed the feeling aside, and gave Brother Bigler’s hand one last earnest shake. “Aloha.” He turned and started off down the track, Brother Keeler and Brother Farrer by his side.
The three walked together for several miles, talking on many varied subjects: how the work was progressing on Maui, how the Saints were faring in the Salt Lake Valley, memories of the trek west, the horrific ocean crossing, and the beauty of the islands. George stopped to take a drink of water, knowing that it was time for them to part company.
“Brethren, I will be grateful for your prayers.”
Brother Keeler gripped his arm. “Of course, Brother Cannon.” He hesitated to get control of his emotions. “I knew you were the man with whom I was to work.”
“You have been a great support to me, Brother Keeler. Mahalo.”
Brother Farrer grinned at him. “Do you have your clean shirt?”
George smiled back. “Yes.”
“Clean socks?”
“Yes.”
“Map?”
“Yes, the one Reverend Taylor gave me.”
William stuck out his hand. “Well, spit spot. Off you go then, and don’t get lost.”
George took his friend’s hand. “It’s an island, William. If I just keep walking, sooner or later, I will end up where I started.”
William laughed. “Make it sooner then, will you?”
George nodded and turned toward the north. He glanced back once and found that his companions were still watching him. He waved and they waved back. He walked off down the track, swinging his borrowed valise, and feeling like a knight going off on a quest.
Notes
In December 1900, when George Q. Cannon returned to the Hawaiian Islands for the fiftieth anniversary of the arrival of the first missionaries, one of the first things he did was to seek out the place in Lahaina, Maui, where Nalimanui offered them shelter and food. He later wrote:
“I wanted to find the site of this house and the garden where I sought the Lord in secret prayer and where He condescended to commune with me, for I heard His voice more than once as one man speaks with another, encouraging me and showing me the work that should be done among this people if I would follow the dictates of His Spirit. Glory to God in the highest that He has permitted me to live to behold the fulfillment of His words.”
Because of prevailing winds and rainfall of the Hawaiian Island chain, the leeward or southwest side of the islands tends to be dry, while the windward or northeast side tends to be wet.
Chapter 11
Waihee, Maui
March 7, 1851
Dear Mary,
For three days I have been tramping around the north and east parts of the island, and I tell you I have experienced singular things. When I went past the area of Napili, I saw a huge whale come out of the sea and crash down on its side. Sprays of white water shot up around it, perhaps twenty feet into the air. It was the largest animal I have ever seen. We have viewed images of whales in books, Mary, but to see the great beast with my own eyes was a wonder. Across the channel to the northwest I viewed the island of Moloka‘i. It seemed a mysterious place with dark rainclouds covering the tops of its towering green cliffs. I find myself wondering what the ancients must have felt when they viewed these islands for the first time. I have learned the Hawaiian word for cliff. It is pali.
There has been rain nearly every day or at least a portion of the day. This part of the island is covered by mountains and thickly forested valleys. In the valleys are a few huts. The people are very curious when they see me, and they gather around and wonder what a haole is doing out among them. They are friendly to me, especially when they find I can speak a bit of their language. They are surprised that someone so young should be attempting such a journey. They all call me keiki, which means child, and they want to take care of me. They carry my suitcase for me and haul me across streams. At night when I reach a group of houses I ask the villagers if there is a man who has a place for me. That tells them I need somewhere to stay, and I have been successful in finding a place every night. I talk with the people and try to tell them the first principles of the gospel, but I find that I will require considerable improvement before I am able to explain much doctrine to them. I had a dream a few months ago where I was out among the native Hawaiian people and we were talking together. That dream is now real for me, my dear Mary, and even though I still have trouble speaking, I understand more and more of what they say.
