A six year old boy

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When I think of the Prophet Joseph Smith’s life, I am overcome. There are so many instances and events that were filled of so much emotion. One such event is in D & C 122:6, where we learn of Joseph’s 6 year old boy clinging to his father before he was taken to Carthage.

“and thine elder son, although but six years of age, shall cling to thy garments, and shall say, My father, my father, why can’t you stay with us? O, my father, what are the men going to do with you?”

I have thought a lot about the little 6 year old boy and what he was thinking and feeling. This poem is written from his perspective. Please try to feel the emotion of this poem.

I’m probably just too young
That’s why I can’t understand
Why some people say that
My daddy’s a bad man.

He hugs me and he holds me
He takes Mom by the hand
It hurts inside when people say
That he’s an evil man.

My daddy is kind and loving
He gives away clothes and food for free
He’s offered strangers his own bed
And gives up time he could spend with me.

He tells me bed time stories
When we’re sick, he has power to heal
My Mommy sure does love him
He cleans and even cooks meals.

Most folks call him Brother Joseph
A modern day prophet they say
He even knows the Bible real well
Grandpa read it to him every day.

My daddy had a vision
He saw God and Jesus Christ
I thought that was a nice thing
But he’s been hated all his life.

Some men came to my home
They took my daddy away
I hugged him really tight and asked
“Daddy, why can’t you stay?”

He looked me in the eyes saying
“Son, God has a plan”
He waved goodbye and then he said
“I’m going like a lamb”.

“Mommy, where will they take him?”
“To Carthage he will go”
I hope they bring my daddy back soon
I need him; I’m only six years old.

I’m trying not to be scared
Mommy says we must be strong
I just want to tell those men
That my daddy’s done nothing wrong.

We asked God for help
I know Daddy will be okay
When he comes home he’ll be so proud
When I tell him how much I prayed.

----------------------------


It’s a few days later
I’ve done nothing but cry
I’m not sure what this means
But my daddy died.

Some bad men rode through town today
Laughing, “The prophet Joseph is dead”
I don’t know if I’ll sleep tonight
Daddy always tucked me into bed.

I saw him, asleep in a wagon he laid
It was moving slowly through the streets
I asked my Mom when he would wake
She’d just shake her head and weep.

I guess I’m too young to understand
Why some people see what they see
But all that really matters is
That daddy was loved by me.

Ben Arkell
October 2007

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