Jacob: Firstborn in the Wilderness

By Martha P. Morrise

 (2 Ne. 2:1–3; Jacob 7:26)

My father placed his hands upon my head

To bless my childhood with a voice of hope.

His words sustained my fragile spirit-thread

Of understanding, wove a sturdy rope

Of faith to gird me through the growing years.

I bore my brothers’ rudeness and their slights,

For Nephi offered safety, calmed my fears,

And shared his strength through burdened days and nights.

A lonesome people, tribulation-born,

We wander in a hostile, barren land.

Our brethren war against us. Thus we mourn

Throughout our days in suffering by their hand.

And yet, we know our God in mercy reigns

And lights a path of love through all our pains.