Autobiography of Martha Timothy Gardner Rudy, Part 5

This part of Martha's history is REALLY interesting:

Nevertheless, despite all this kindness, there were days, weeks, and months of worry for the present needs. It was in the time of one of these moods that I prayed most sincerely for Alma to come back and tell me what to do. The loom provided more of a time killer than a profit-making device. One night, feeling especially helpless, I sat up in bed and cried bitterly, realizing that the loom could never buy flour and nine dollars per cut. It was early morning, the door stood open, and Al walked in dressed in the same clothes he had worn when we were logging. He walked up to the loom and passed his hand over a strip of carpet. “Yes,” he said, “you are worrying over flour. Well, I promise you in the name of the Lord, if you lead a good life, you will never buy a pound of flour with your own earnings. Brig and Bebe Timothy (my brothers) are raising a good crop of wheat, and you have never been up to see it. Go up and see it. It is so high (indicating with his hand) and show appreciation to the boy.” I said, “Oh, Al, come over here and let me see if it is really you.” “Oh, no, I cannot do that. The sun is coming up, and I must go. They tell me that you are crying all the time now, Martha. I don’t want to hear tell of that anymore, and I cannot come back.” Then he turned and went out. I jumped up to see where he had gone, but never saw him again.

The following is a prophetic vision I had. One early morning, about 2:00 a.m., I stood by a tree in front of the house bemoaning my loneliness, and a young man appeared and stood before me. That same voice I had heard before spoke these words. “Martha, be comforted. This man will come and help you raise your children, and he will be a great comfort to you.”

Wearily, the days passed. The summer was gone. In looking for further means of support, I had let it be known that I was going to board the teacher of Gline’s ward school. The teacher was to have been a dear friend, Ella Reynolds. A few weeks before school was scheduled to open, a young man from the East appeared upon the scene, and the trustees contracted with him to teach this school. To say the least, I was sadly disappointed. I never had a thought that he was to become my future husband. Mr. Josiah Phillip Rudy came, found a boarding place, and formally opened school in a one-room log house, receiving all grades (but that is another story). Becoming dissatisfied with his accommodations, he asked the pupils if anyone knew of a place. A little girl of eight, La Prele spoke up with, “Mama said she was going to board the teacher. Under unusual circumstances, we arranged to board him and keep his team of wild colts, which he had acquired together with a new harness and buckboard with which to leave the coming spring. This happened in December 1890.

Our boarder proved himself congenial and spent many happy hours breaking his team. Toward spring, when he considered it safe, I had many trips around the valley with him, calling on my friends and relatives, attending church and an occasional party.

It was not until school had closed in the spring that I had any inkling of his intentions or desire to stay with us permanently, and that I was to see in him the fulfillment of the vision that I had had of the man who was to come and help me raise the children. It happened this way: Considerable interest had been aroused in the community over some mineral prospects in the Blue Mountains, east of Vernal about 50 miles. Mr. Rudy was persuaded by a party of neighbors to accompany them to the scene of the activities. In preparation for the trip, he bought suitable clothes, among them a cowboy hat with a leather band. When he appeared in the doorway with it on, I was stunned. Presently, I made the connection of the vision. Here before me stood the man I had seen that memorable night, hat and all!

(Click here to continue to Part 6.)