Chapter 3 – The Diary of Moses Jenkins
“I begin this journal on the 20th day of June in the year of our Lord, 1892. I am now alone and have outlived three wives and five children. My time to return to my Maker is fast approaching and I must tell my story while I still have time.
I joined the Union Army when I was 18 and fought in that war in which brother faced brother and father faced son. I saw many people die on the battlefield but I give thanks to my God that I suffered no worse than a broken leg when I was trodden on by a horse during the Battle of Bull Run.
My first wife and infant son both died of pneumonia while I was fighting for the abolishment of slavery. I despised the South and their practice of slavery. My grand pappy had been brought to the United States against his will - on a slave ship in the year 1820. He managed to escape to freedom ten years later. He and my grandma settled somewhere in Vermont.
After the war, I returned to Portland, Maine where I had lived my entire life. I became a seaman on a merchant ship that travelled to Nova Scotia exchanging fish for lumber. It was in Portland that I met my second wife.
Martha blessed me with three children, the youngest Isaiah was born on my 30th birthday. Four years later, I lost them all when the house where we lived, burnt to the ground. Nothing was saved. All I had were memories. To bury my sorrow, I decided on a new life and moved north to Canada. I had friends in the small ports of Nova Scotia and roamed from town to town for a few years. I finally settled down in Sheet Harbour in the year of our Lord, 1882. There I worked in the local lumberyard.
Soon after, I met the third love of my life, Fiona, a young Scottish lassie. She was 22 when we married. I was almost 39. My sorrows from the past were gone and I was the happiest I had been in a long time. Misfortune again visited me when Fiona and our 3 month old baby were killed during a riot that erupted outside a tavern when the owner refused to sell liquor to several individuals who were drunk.
22nd of June - I was not able to write yesterday as I had little energy and spent most of the day sleeping. I must finish this journal while I still can.
After losing my third wife, I lost all faith in mankind. I had saved enough money to buy the materials I needed to build a small home where I could live the rest of my life in peace. I was adept at both hunting and fishing and I knew I could sustain myself without the aid of others. I no longer feared being alone. It was something I needed. It is here that I shall die.
This sickness I have, whatever it might be, tires me greatly. Lately I have been having hallucinations of long bearded elves running in the woods outside my home. They seem so real. I can hear them singing and talking to one another. I have even tried to get their attention by calling back to them even though I know they are not really there. Once, I thought one of them answered me saying it was not time yet but they would be back later.
June 23rd - I should really try to gather what strength I have to drag myself to the village to get some medical attention. That would mean a hike of two miles to a doctor who lives there on the other side of these hills. I don’t think I have the stamina to do that now. Perhaps I will rest for a while and try tomorrow.
June 25th - I slept all day yesterday and today I am the weakest I have ever been. Again, I have seen the elves. They waved and said they would be back tomorrow. They seemed to be a happy lot and friendly. I wish I had the energy that they had. I must remind myself that they are not real.
June26th - I am even weaker as I write this. The elves woke me this morning with their singing. They all wear green caps except for one who wears a red one. Perhaps he is the Head Elf. It is he who told me to be ready tomorrow. Ready for what - I have no idea. Could it mean that my time has come? I think it is approaching ever so quickly but the elves could not possibly know. How could they - they are just in my imagination as my health wanes.
June 27th - Today the Head Elf knocked on my front door and told me it was time. They would be back in an hour to get me. He handed me a robe and told me to change into it before I left. Suddenly he was gone but in my arms I was holding a robe. It was real. I could feel the fine silk. I now realize that the elves are real as well.
So, I must now finish my journal before I depart this life. I will hide it here in my dwelling and hope that some day, someone will find it and I will not be forgotten. I must now wear my robe and wait for the elves to come and get me.”
Yours Sincerely
God’s Faithful Servant,
Moses Jenkins