“Jacob: Firstborn in the Wilderness,” Ensign, Sept. 1993, 56
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.