A Valuable Lesson

One summer when I was about twelve  I was permitted to go alone on a visit to Mother's oldest sister who lived in the town of Barry in South Wales. Aunt Annie kept house for her brother, Uncle Herbert. They were both very kind to us children. Mother put me on the train and Aunt Annie met me at Cardiff where I was supposed to change trains. I was a little bit scared of Aunt Annie. She was very fussy and very strict but she tried to be kind. She had never married, neither had Uncle Herbert, but at that time he was courting a young widow. I loved Uncle Herbert very much. The widow's name was Helen Fidoe Stevens. I called her Aunt Nell. One day she asked Aunt Annie if I could go with her for a week's stay at a place called Dinas Powis, about twenty miles from Barry. She was going to act as housekeeper for her cousin who was going to France on his honeymoon. The cousin was a gentleman farmer. That means that he owned a farm and large house, but had servants to run it for him. So I went with Aunt Nell and spent one of the happiest weeks of my life. Uncle Herbert came out by train several times during the week.

Dinas Powis, Wales
 

One day during the week, Aunt Nell sent me on an errand to the village with the caution not to linger in the village, but to come straight home because she said a fog often comes in from the sea and I might not be able to find my way home. I arrived at the village all right and made the purchase I was sent for. But I stopped to play with some young relatives of Aunt Nell's and it was beginning to get late, around 5:00 p.m., when I started back. I had to cross two or three fields, walk down a long lane and cross a bridge over a stream before arriving at the farm. I was crossing the first field when the fog started to roll in. I crossed the stile to the second field but by then the fog was so thick I couldn't see where I was going and I kept going around that field trying to find that second stile. It seemed I walked for hours and I was wet and cold and frightened and didn't know what to do. Finally, I thought of my Father's parting words, "Be sure to pray to your Heavenly Father every day". I had forgotten this advice until now. I had not been in the habit of praying except to sing a little prayer or say the Lord's Prayer. So I knelt down upon the wet grass and asked Heavenly Father to help me find the way home. Just as I arose from my knees I heard a most unearthly noise almost in my ears. It sounded like all the demons in Hell were after me. I ran as though my life depended upon it. I don't remember crossing the stile or running down the lane, but the next thing I knew I was running over the wooden bridge and saw a light coming to look for me.

 

 

A Stile

I learned two valuable lessons that day. One was to always obey instructions and the other that the Lord does hear and answer our prayers. Retracing my steps the next day, I noticed a donkey tethered near the stile. I supposed it was he that made that terrible noise.

This story was adapted for the LDS Friend Magazine by Hester's granddaughter, Alison Lowe Randall. See it here.