Our last, long and dreary night is over. At two o’clock in the morning we were aroused by cries of “San Francisco in sight.” It would be hard to describe our joy at the hearing of such welcome news and our anxiety to set foot on the sandy shore of the far famed “Golden Region”. The quantity of shipping reminds us of New York. The arrival of friends and strangers on board seeking their relations caused great confusion.
It was four o’clock P.M. when we left the steamer. Mr. Eugene Kelly, coming on board, was soon recognized by Sister Francis, as an old and true friend whom she had known for many years in St. Louis. He was delighted to see her, and immediately offered his assistance to take us on shore and attend to our baggage. Sister Francis availed herself of Mr. Eugene Kelly’s kind offer.
Shortly after we were let down in small boats and rowed to shore where we were the gaze and laughing stock of a crowd of men who had never seen a cornette and not even a female for many a long day. We were obliged to endure this humiliation till Mr. Kelly succeeded in procuring carriages to take us to our future home. But Oh! What a home for the poor, sick and tired Pioneers.
After much riding up and down and round sand hills that seemed interminable, the driver halted before a destitute looking shanty, and Mr. Kelly said, “Sister Francis, I think this is the place”. In a moment the door was thrown open, and an elderly gentleman, in a torn and worn cassock, stepped out, surrounded by a crowd of dirty, ragged children who ran to look at us, and then went back. The Sisters were alighting even without an invitation, but Sister Francis was as if paralyzed, and remained seated. Father Maginnis, (for so it proved to be) came up to the carriage and said: “Are you the Boss?” This was almost too much; however, we bore it and be assured that the soil on which we were to labor was well watered with our tears.
We hastened to get into the house, and there the picture of desolation was completed – not a chair was to be seen, wooden stools, the work of Father Maginnis, supplied their place. Upstairs there were seven cots with thin straw mattresses and little pillows of goats’ hair without sheets or blankets, or any to be had.
Although sick and tired, we had first to arrange our little furniture to the best advantage. Father Maginnis’ kind and fatherly care cannot be forgotten by the first Sisters. He took the blanket from his own bed and gave it to us, and the meal which had been prepared for himself, he sent to us, as we had no convenience to prepare victuals for ourselves that day.The news of our arrival soon spread, and many persons came to welcome us, and offered to share with us the little they had.
Sister Francis was afraid to go to bed as there were several large rat holes in the room in which we were to sleep. After our night prayers, we retired to rest, sick, fatigued and sad.
Once in our new home, we are trying to console one another – everything looks so dreary, but the peace of God, which within will brighten our future career. Though so many thousands of miles from all that are near and dear to us, we trust we are no further from Heaven on the bleak shores of the Pacific.
