February 11, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I am distraught. My spirit is dim and there is not a soul who might brighten them. I am now forced to turn my back on the familiarity of life lived in Lancaster. I am afraid of what will come. I am appalled at the behaviours of these heathens. It further enforces their close relation to the Devil himself. They have performed their celebratory festival, full of drinking, revelry and wicked dancing which is a great sin to our Puritan society. A well-versed man on our beliefs, by the name of Increase Mather, expressed it this way: "It has been proved that such a practice is a Scandalous immorality, and therefore to be removed out of Churches by Discipline, which is the Broom of Christ, whereby he keeps his Churches clean..." This is just one thing that shows how far removed these heathens are from our society, and I can only pray that God will deliver me from them.

I am told that we are to move quickly, for snow is to come and will prove death to all if we do not find shelter for the night. Sarah grows more and more sick; I cannot explain the sorrow I feel at being so powerless to help her. I must trust her to God's hands and "trust in the Lord with all [my] hear and lean not on [my] own understanding." (Prov. 3.5)