"I told my mother the dream; my hope revived, and my health became better. I waited and watched. Suitors came, but I shunned them. Three years had passed, and I was still at home. Johnston's army was coming, and all of our people from Salt Lake City northward, had fled to the south. Our home being only a few rods back from the road, we saw thousands of people pass southward until the stream was exhausted. One day as I sat weaving, my face to the street, a one-horse buggy with two men in it, drove by. The one on the side nearest us turned his face toward me and laughed. Instantly I cried, 'Oh, mother! That is my husband. Who are they?' I came to the meeting, and when I saw you, I knew you. I felt confused, yet a thrill of joy came to me. At the close of the meeting, I sought your sister and went home with her, for I knew you would be there." On New Year's day we were married--and a blessing had come to me. She was industrious and saving as a housekeeper; she was also a wise counselor, and a loyal wife. As my family became enlarged, I adopted the plan of buying my family supplies by wholesale. While we were living in Long Valley, I was a farmer, and also a saw-mill man. In the fall I would load my teams with lumber and grain and go to the Washington factory seventy-five miles away, buy my supplies, take them home, and give them to Albina, for I knew that she would divide them justly with every other member of the family. She was big hearted enough to sympathize with the other wives, and if trouble occurred in the family she always took their parts, yet so wisely and soothingly, that she always kept my love and confidence. By nature, I was of a quick, irritable disposition, and her firm calmness was a great help to me. It served as a balance wheel to keep me from flying to pieces. And her life had deeper roots than love for her husband, as the following incident illustrates: In St. George, in 1864, I had two wives; for four years we had lived in tents and wagon beds, owing to deprivations, resulting from extended missionary labors. I had succeeded in getting up a one-roomed house which I was shingling, when the postman in passing, handed Albina a letter, remarking, "I think Brother Young is called on a mission again." I exclaimed, "I will be if I will go." "O father, don't say that," said my first wife. "You don't want to humiliate us. Think how we would feel if you should refuse to respond to a mission call." Thus did she ever encourage me to be loyal to my duty to the nation and the Church. The following incident, also touched upon elsewhere, illustrates her power of faith: