Our work has been as last year. My husband has taught in the
Seminary at Seir, coming here to preach on the Sabbath. I have
taught a school of eighteen boys and girls here. Before vacation, my
babe sickened, and rested in Jesus. Since that time, I have had
fever, and am still very weak.
Five in the village, besides ourselves, are communicants. My father
and brother are among them. I trust that my mother and brother's
wife will soon unite with us. The work of the Lord in the village
goes forward better than formerly. I try to talk and pray with the
women alone, and they are more ready to have me do it, which makes
me to rejoice in the Lord.
Give my loving peace to my dear grandmother Hannah. Though with the
eyes of this mortal body we have not seen each other, nor have I any
hope that we shall, the Lord her God help me, that we may meet on
the blessed hill of Zion above. I believe, my mother, that you will
remember your weak, unworthy lamb, when you bow before the throne of
mercy and grace. Perhaps this is the last letter you will receive
from me, for death seems very near. Receive loving peace from the
priest [her husband].
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