Journey's End - The Final Book of the Legacy Saga Book 3

Chapter 17

Seventeen

And so it begins.

Like those before us, we go forward with faith in every footstep.

Adagio St. John's Journal

For the first month, we travel twenty miles a day. We set up camp each night and start out again at sunrise, resting periodically throughout the day. The children and youth keep spirits up and aid in passing the days in joy. During this time, many of the youth begin to dream dreams and see visions of things to come pertaining to the coming of the Savior. In their innocence, their minds are being opened and they are being prepared. It brings comfort to us all.

Then, due growing fatigue, illness comes to many of the older members of our group and we begin to cover less ground.

A bout of the flu sweeps through the camp and many become sick, mainly the children and the older adults. The priesthood is utilized and Adagio, Dad and some of the other healthy priesthood holders administer blessings to the sick. With so many falling ill, we are forced to stop and set up camp for almost a week.

In our tent, I care for Dagio and Cisely as best I can, hold and rocking them, making them as comfortable as possible.

On the third day of sickness during a moment that Dagio is awake, he asks me, "Will I die, Mama? Will Cisely die?"

"No, baby," I assure him. "You and your sister will be well. We were promised by the Lord that our family will make it to New Jerusalem."

"Will others die?"

As much as I wish I could say no, I know I must be honest with him. "Yes," I finally answer, caressing his moist brow. "But God is watching over us all, and those that die will be safe in His arms. They will be all right."

"Okay," he says, seeming satisfied with my answer. I give him a chewable vitamin C pill and some liquid Echinacea and pull a cool cloth on his forehead.

"Let your mind be at ease, son," Adagio says. "No matter what we have to face, the Lord will be with us."

"That's what He told me, Papa."

Adagio smiles then gives Dagio a blessing of comfort.

Cisely soon awakens and cries for me. I change her diaper and damp t-shirt. Giving her a few sips of water mixed with vitamin C powder, I massage her arms, legs, feet, and stomach with some essential oils, and I hold her close, rocking her until she falls asleep again. I softly brush the dark curls back from her face. Her hair is unusually long and thick for a one-year-old and reaches just past her shoulders. While Dagio looks just like his father, Cisely's features are a mixture of both of ours, but her light brown eyes are definitely mine.

I lay her down next to her brother who is sleeping again and go with Adagio to check on others, offering what comfort I can. Dad joins us.

For some, the flu advances into pneumonia. Most are able to pull through, but a few succumb and graves are dug. Though there is sadness with each passing, there is also peace in knowing they no longer suffer and are in a better place. Some, I am sure, stick close by to watch over loved ones they've left behind.

* * *

Three weeks away from our destination, the temperature cools significantly, and with the coming of snow comes the slow descent of hunger as the food runs out.

As for Adagio and me, and Dad as well, we seem to grow stronger and somehow are able to survive on less than the others. The cold hasn't affected us as much as it should, either. It is as if our bodies are somehow changing. We still drink water whenever we can find it, but we don't feel starved, so most of our food has been going to our children, as well as our extra blankets. Dad gives away his extra blankets as well, wanting to help others out.

Adagio and I sleep each night wrapped in each other's arms, comforted that our children are warm enough. Many in the group don't have that luxury, and we pray for them constantly.

One night I quietly ask Adagio, "Why do you think our bodies are changing and not the others?"

"I don't know, amore. I wonder as well. But God has His reasons. I am sure He will make it known in time." He is quiet for a moment and I know he is thinking. "Maybe it has been a refining process and somehow we have been found worthy. Not that the others are not. Or maybe He found us ready because we were watching and waiting. Whatever the reason, I am grateful to be used in the Lord's service."

"So am I."

* * *

We receive another visit from Adagio's grandparents. They share their love for us and offer encouragement and comfort. They also assure us that our family is well. They have visited with Adagio's parents and informed them of our well-being. No other details are shared, which is fine with us. We would like to know more, but we are comforted to know everyone is well and look forward to being with them again when it is time.

I have come to love Adagio and Cisely St. John so much, and I always miss them after they are gone, but I know we will see them again.

* * *

Soon the food completely runs out and the camp is immersed in hunger.

Then the miracles begin.

We wake up one morning to find cakes of manna on the ground. After humble prayers of gratitude, each family stores enough for several days. The food from heaven tastes like heaven.

This miracle happens two more times, sustaining the strength of the group a while longer. It does not happen again until we finally reach what will be New Jerusalem.

As our exhausted group crosses into the abandoned city, surrounded by destruction and abandoned homes and buildings in every direction, we drop to our knees and cry tears of joy.

We know the task before us. We know it will not be easy, but God has led us to our new home, to build it up for His Son's return. More groups will arrive soon, and we know we won't have to do it alone.

None of us will ever be alone again.