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Page 1
On a green hill in England stood a farm called Mars Hill — hop vines on their poles, fruit trees leaning over the lane, and Ann Jewell Rowley, who knew every sound her old door made.
Bridge text — written to connect the story; no single journal line behind this page
Page 2
In the evenings, when the work was done, Ann would sit very still and feel a question she didn’t have words for. William felt it too. There must be more. There must be more.
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“the 600 members of the United Brethren, including William and Ann Jewell Rowley”
Page 3
Far away — across an ocean, across the hills — a young man named Wilford Woodruff was walking toward them. He didn’t know their names yet. He only knew that God had said: Go south. They are waiting.
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“The answer I received was that I should go to the south; for the Lord had a great work for me to perform there, as many souls were waiting for His word.”
Page 4
Then one evening, when the light was low — knock, knock, knock. The first knock.
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Page 5
There stood a stranger, dusty to his knees, with a little journal in his coat. "I’ve come a very long way," he said, "to tell you something wonderful." And William and Ann opened the door wide.
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“They received him and his message gladly, inviting him to make his home with them while he preached in the neighborhood.”
Page 6
So Wilford told them, by the fire, while the shadows grew long — and the question Ann had carried for so many years began, at last, to feel like an answer.
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“Wilford Woodruff visited the Rowley home at Mars Hill and preached the gospel to the family.”
Page 7
"Stay with us," the family said, "and preach to all our neighbors." So Wilford stayed. Evening after evening, neighbors came to listen — some curious, some quiet, all leaning a little closer.
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“inviting him to make his home with them while he preached in the neighborhood”
Page 8
But not everyone was glad. Some men grumbled. Some men whispered in doorways. And then, in the dark, a mob of men came — hands balled into fists, faces hard as stone. They were coming down the lane.
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“a mob of men came to their door”
Page 9
Then one night — BANG. BANG. BANG. A different kind of knock. Angry men crowded the dark lane, and their shout came right through the door: "We want Woodruff — and we are going to get him!"
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“We want Woodruff, and we are going to get him. ... One night while Elder Woodruff was staying at their home, a mob of men came to their door and Grandpa opened the door and asked them what they wanted.”
Page 10
William stood in the doorway in his nightshirt — not very tall, not very fierce — and did not move. "If you get him," said William, "it will be over my dead body."
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“If you get him it will be over my dead body.”
Page 11
The men were rough with William before they melted away into the dark. But they did not get past him. Upstairs their guest slept safe — and in the morning, as Ann bound up his bruises, she thought her quiet husband was the bravest man in all of England.
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“took hold of Grandfather and dragged him out into the yard”
Page 12
That spring was the driest anyone could remember — and still every fruit tree stood white and sweet with blossom. Ann stepped outside and breathed it all in — the blossoms, the quiet, the feeling that she had found, at last, the thing she had been looking for so long. She belonged now, all the way through, and her heart was full.
Bridge text — written to connect the story; no single journal line behind this page
Page 13
On a bright May morning she walked to a quiet pool called Nightingale Bower, where the water held the sky. There was a baby coming that summer — her first — and when Wilford brought her up out of the water, he smiled. "Today I have baptized two," he said. "A mother — and her little one."
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“he was baptizing two members into the Kingdom of God, mother and child ... Ann Jewell was seven months pregnant with her Àrst son, John, when she was baptized.”
Page 14
Later that spring, William waded into the water too. Ann watched from the bank, blossoms at her back, and the question they had carried together became an answer for good.
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“The morning light of truth that broke forth across the rolling hills of England fell gently upon the uplifted eyes of these two noble spirits and dispelled forever the darkness of ignorance and error.”
Page 15
The baby came in July, and they named him John. And one day — knock, knock, knock — there stood their old friend Wilford, back from his long roads. He looked at little John a good while, and then he laughed. "Ah," he said. "You and I have met before."
From your journal · prints on the back pages
“when he later saw the little fellow on a return visit to the Rowley home ... John would be born two months later on July 14”
Page 16
Mars Hill looked just the same — the hops on their poles, the same old door facing the lane. But some knocks bring strangers, and some bring trouble, and some bring back a friend. At Mars Hill, they always opened the door.
Bridge text — written to connect the story; no single journal line behind this page
From the source
Adapted from source
Bridge text
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Behind the story
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Page 1 of 9Rowley Family History.pdf
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Page 9 of 9Rowley Family History.pdf
Where this story came from
This note prints on the last page of every book in this collection, so a reader can trace it to its source — set once for the whole series. It shows in the 3D preview and the printed PDF.
This book was drawn from the journals, kept 1712-2004.