“Is something the matter?” Ann glanced down at his arm. Surely the pain of it was flaring up again. “If your wound is hurting a great deal, I know you said you don’t prefer the laudanum, but I can get some for you—”
“Uh, no. It has nothing to do with my arm.”
The entire feeling of the room had grown still and serious, like the inside of a forest. Ann watched his Adam’s apple bob.
“It’s just—how did you come to believe what you do?”
The question caught her so off guard, she cleared her throat to give herself a moment to think. He seemed aware of how personal his question was, now that he said it, and didn’t meet her gaze.
“You mean my religion, Mr. Boyd?”
“Uh ... yes. Or, um, how you came to know God was real.”
One finger ran down the side of his bandage as he spoke, and by the way his eyes avoided her own, she guessed he felt foolish for voicing his question.
Ann wished her own testimony burned brighter. In the past several weeks she had doubted so much. But the sincerity of his look and the vulnerability in his tone spoke to her heart.
“Will, you seem tired. Are you sure you don’t wish to turn in?”
“Not yet,” he said, his voice quiet but eager.
He didn’t want to hear her doubt; he wanted to feel her strength. She drew a long breath, and she felt the Lord’s Spirit speaking to her again.
“I’m not usually one to speak of this, but with you—” she struggled with exactly how to express it. “It feels right. And safe to tell you.”
He nodded.
It was best to continue before she second-guessed herself. “I was twelve years old when missionaries from America came to teach near where we lived. My mother came from a well-off family, and we had always lived with enough and to spare.”
He was intently watching her, soaking in every one of her words.
“Then my father died—he drank too much, and the drinking finally killed him. Naturally, my mother’s family stepped in and helped support my mother and my sister and me. Then one day, a friend mentioned to my mother that these American missionaries’ message was worth a listen.” Ann paused. “Here’s where it gets interesting.”
She laughed softly and one of his hands met hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She soaked up the encouragement.
“They said that a few years before, a young American farm boy had wondered about God and his own salvation. Well, he prayed, and God appeared to him, telling him that none of the churches of the earth were entirely correct anymore. So God inspired this Joseph Smith to restore the Church to be just like the church Christ started in His day.”
“And you believe that?”
She paused and raised her eyebrows. “Have you been to church, Will?”
He nodded.
“Has it ever seemed confusing? Or hard to relate to?”
He shrugged. “I don’t remember liking it when my grandmother used to force me to go.”
“I am beginning to really like this grandmother.” She smiled at him.
Will’s eyes turned tender. “She was one of the best. Knew how to do things right.”
Ann’s grin grew. “Well, church as a young girl was hard for me too. Everyone seemed to talk of God like He was so distant and almost angry.” She furrowed her brow, looked down at her hands, and then lifted her eyes again. “I know Joseph Smith’s story is surprising, but when I listened to those missionaries recount his experience—of seeing God and acting on God’s words—I couldn’t deny the feeling I had. Joseph’s story spoke to me. If God cared enough to come to a boy and talk with him and teach him, maybe He really was the kind of God I’d always hoped for. One that might know me too.”
As she studied his gaze, something in his eyes changed, growing wider and hungrier. She hoped it meant her explanation was pricking his heart.
“The missionaries said if we believed, we needed to be baptized, and I knew I believed. This was the God and the Christ that were real. Relatable. Willing to talk to Their children on earth. And I knew God really wanted me. In that moment, He spoke to my heart. The feeling was warm and exciting but peaceful at the same time.”
For a moment he was still, and then he leaned toward her. “So, you are telling me that all four hundred and eighty passengers on this ship believe as you do?”
