On a muddy Iowa flat with cold rains and winds pelting them, the exiled Saints pressed forward 150 years ago, their faith greater than their misery. One night at Locust Creek, William Clayton, "under the most emotionally and physically stressful and trying circumstances imaginable" penned a hymn of a few verses that seemed to bring an inner sun. He first called the hymn `All is Well." The story of that famous hymn, now known as "Come, Come, Ye Saints," is on page 6.
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