To view excerpts from the book (without footnotes), click on links below:

1. Sharon Vermont — “Birthplace”
2. Joseph’s Mission to Canada — “Who Will Listen?”
3. The Work Continues — “On Nauvoo’s Hill”

Note: Copies of Birthplace, Who Will Listen? and On Nauvoo’s Hill may be made for incidental non-defamatory and non-commercial church or home use. 

The Work Continues

... Due to rumors that federal troops planned the destruction of the Mormons, the Saints continued to evacuate Nauvoo as quickly as possible. By September all but five men and their families had left the city, The mob that entered Nauvoo looted the abandoned homes and desecrated the temple. In October 1848, an arsonist burned the interior of the temple. A tornado destroyed three exterior walls in May 1850. The final wall was leveled in 1856.

Relocated in the valleys of the mountain west, the Church continued to grow in size and strength throughout the nineteenth century. By the end of the twentieth century, the Church, which was organized in 1830 with only six men, had close to 11 million members. Today increasing numbers of faithful Saints throughout the world acknowledge Jesus Christ as the Savior of the World, Joseph Smith as His Prophet, and the Book of Mormon as His word. We testify that the Church continues to be led by a living prophet... The reconstructed Nauvoo temple, dedicated 27-30 June 2002 stands, with each of the other latter-day temples, as a witness that the work which the Prophet Joseph Smith commenced will continue to roll forth until all the purposes of God have been fulfilled

   

On Nauvoo’s Hill                 I Cradled in the curve of the Mississippi, Joseph’s city of gathering grows from sultry swamps, muddy banks–mortar, nail, brick and rail. Thriving seven years on frontier’s edge, it flourishes around a central plot where walls of white devotion rise above gardens, hotel, schools and shops until angel, knowledge, power, crown the temple tower.                 II Exiled, the builders leave. Victims of villainy, they journey west, as desolation moans a solemn requiem through silent rooms, hollow streets, cemetery still. Hands that turned wood, carved suns and stars, polished brass and glass, push wagon wheels, dig winter graves, farm desert sod, while homeless children of a homeless God begin to build again. Desecrated, dead, their offering lies on the altar-crest     of Nauvoo’s hill, inward parts consumed by flames. Whirlwind wasted, charred stones remain like scattered bones across some ancient battlefield,                 III A vast posterity reaches east and west, preserved and prospered by promises bestowed on Nauvoo’s hill. The spirit brooding on that holy ground turns hearts at last to sound the story, resurrect the glory, exhume the buried beauty of the past. We firm the footings, raise strong walls, reverently fashion suns and stars, replicate the temple tower, fully furnish rooms and halls. Trumpets call down heaven’s power. It is finished! The fathers’ work is done, the perfect pattern of their sacrifice embodied in new stone.   Hear, O ye heavens, and give ear, O earth, and rejoice ye inhabitants thereof, for the Lord is God, and beside him there is no Savior. . . His purposes fail not, . . . (D&C 76:1& 3).

Copyright 2005 Sharon Price Anderson