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Show Morgan Pioneer Hi>lory Binds Us Together In the spring of 1873, we moved to Porterville, where we homesteaded land. It was a struggle with two growing families. Our first homes were made of logs and we had three rooms each. Our houses had floors in them, but the roofs were of dirt and sometimes they leaked; but after the storm was over, we would white wash the walls and they would be pretty and white again. I had a home made rug on one floor, but the girls had to scrub the other floor, and oh, the slivers they got in their hands. Our home, though crude, was always clean and neat. We made our soap from ashes and grease and how the children hated it. We made candles with tallow taken from the sheep, which were killed for our meat. We knit our stockings and spun our yarn, which was woven into cloth, from which I made my husband's and sons' suits. Ellen and I worked very hard together; helping each other in times of sickness and we were one big happy family. My husband was a very just man, treating both families with the same love and consideration. We lived the law of plural marriage perfectly. Seven more children were born to me: David Davis, born May 10, 1873; Ema, born January 18,1875 (she lived only for seven months); Levi Alfred, born January 16, 1876; Amelia, born June 16,1878; Clara, born May 23,1880; Benjamin, born January 22, 1883; and Frank, born December 24,1884 (died in infancy). I now record an incident to show the faith and determination of our forefathers. We had been to a meeting while living in Kaysville and Brother George Q. Cannon had preached a powerful sermon on the word of wisdom. My father, William Davis, had smoked a pipe for forty years. After returning home from meeting, he took his pipe and tobacco and put them both in the stove and he never again touched tobacco. [The above sketch was written by Alice Carter Spackman, as the events were related to her by her mother, Sarah Davis Carter.] And now, I would like to add a few lines to my mother's history of my own. I have often wished that I could be as good and faithful as my dear mother was. She worked so hard for her family. She had no washing machine or any of the conveniences which we have. Never once did she fail when father was not at home to have our family prayers or to neglect to teach us the gospel in any way. She was always cheerful and never did I hear her complain over any hardship. She was always clean and neat and could wear an apron for days and it would never look soiled. She was a good manager, always having a piece of fruit cake for an unexpected visitor or a dollar for an emergency. She was stately, erect and straight up to the time of her death. Lave ftCways %eev my memory with you, Tor memories never die; 1 wifChe there with you; When you iook across the sky. 1 wiffhe there in the douds, 3n the birds thatfiff the air, In the Beauty of a fragrant rose, You wifffindmy memory there. You wdffeefme in the tenderness Of a haBy'saentfe touch. You wiffhear me if you (isten, In the twitighf s gentfe hush. "When your hearts are heavy, "Andyou feet that you are affafone, Just reach down deep inside of you, for your heart is now my home. 1 wiCfaCways he with you, 1 wuT never go away. Tor 1 wifftive on in your hearts, forever and a day. Love, *Me 40 |