Mr. Charlie never did like the Elders. He could remember them coming by the boarding house where he lived, even before he married Miss Emma. Those “Mormon Boys,” as he would call them, would always say that they were “just passing through,” but the truth was that Miss Emma had asked them to stop by and check on Mr. Charlie, and see if they could sneak in a missionary discussion with him from time to time.
They knew that he knew that they were not “just passing through.” They knew that he knew and he knew that they knew that he knew. The only one who didn’t know was Miss Emma. She was just plain hopeful.
From the day that Miss Emma had spied Mr. Charlie walking down the dust-laden ruts they called a road in front of “Doc” Andrews’ General Store, she had hoped and dreamed that Mr. Charlie would join her church and be the man who would take her to the Temple, way out west, to be sealed for time and all eternity. That was what she believed in, and hoped that Mr. Charlie would too.
But the realities of life in the Deep South of the 1930’s and her own timidity about her religion did not leave much hope for Miss Emma. That hope included a fervent prayer that some day some young Elder would come and convert her good man.
“After all,” she said, “miracles still do happen.”