Fire of the Covenant written by Katherine Weaver Walker

Today I am going to Morgan, Utah.Morgan? Do you know where that is? Morgan you might say, Where have I heard that before? The answer is hidden in your past and mine as well. It is nestled in a beautiful valley just over the mountains to the east of Layton and Farmington Utah. I will see into that quaint small little piece of community by turning the pages of my past to chapter, verse and the life of Sophia Dickson our grandmother, great grandmother and even greater depending on the generation. It will take about and hour or two from my home in Tooele, something that might take a full day and night and maybe more in a horse drawn carriage.

It is predicted to be cold this day as my cousin and I will venture out to explore our past. I know for a fact that this time together will kindle a warmth in our hearts of which has lied in embers for most of our lives. We will walk among the shadows of the 1850's to the turn of the century over a hundred years ago, Grave seeking, we will cast our eyes on a view that has not changed to much by time and circumstance. To our roots we will go to see the old farmstead, the alpine mountains caped with snow and envision the nearness and echoes of what has been.

To mind will come the day similar in the midst of winter when great grandfather Bishop Alfred Douglas Dickson wrapped Sophia up in a blanket and drove the family sleight to the river bank, to a freshly chipped hole in the ice and the river beneath. There in the cold grandmother was warmed by the covenant as she was baptized and then again wrapped in a blanket for a brisk cold ride home. And just maybe we will find that wonderful moment that created our future in the triumph and shadows of our heritage. Maybe we can kindle the faith and the testimony of that generation to our own.

There in the beautiful valley Sophia was born, and went to school to the eight grade. Her formal schooling ended but she had thrived in the goodness of the Lord. There are many a story I would like to tell of this wonderful woman we call grandmother. But among all the memories I have of her and the thing I prize the most is her Testimony. She truly loved the Lord. I love her dearly for her treasures, the legacy of testimony forged in that generation, her life, and her heritage.

We will make this pilgrimage this day and hopefully find you, Sophia Dickson Weaver, to blend our wills to you, grandmother. And today may our hands clasp as cousins, and allow the fire of the Covenant to warm this winter day.

Grandfather Max Dickson Weaver in front of the Richville home in Morgan Utah.  The home where his mother Sophia grew up-- Home of Albert Douglass Dickson and Harriet Rosella Flint

Grandpa at the grave of his Great Grandparents Bill and Mary Ann Stoddard at the Porterville Cemetery near Richville, Morgan, Utah

Church in Porterville where Albert Douglass Dickson served from 1837-1914, 37 years.

Epilogue... In 2010, I went to Morgan with Grandpa-- It became the Barnwood of Barnwood and Tulips- it forever changed me.  If you haven't been, you should go!