For me no hard fought pioneering,
Of unmarked trails over forbidding lands,
No stubborn earth-sought harvest yielding,
No threatening hostile Savage bands.
For me the ancient silent loom
Is stilled in history’s distant night,
My life’s sun-filled brilliant room
Makes no place for musty memories’ sight.
But still my untaught soul must earn
Its place—must conquer pride, and hate, and greed.
And with the lessons form my Father learned,
Present a life judged worthy of his seed.
Bessie R. Ericksen
Written for the Stake Relief Society
Story and Poem Contest 1965.
(Won 3 rd prize $5.00)