Peace was patched up between the couple by his assurance that what he had done in the matter of making that promise was done from a strict sense of duty, and because he had faith that the Lord would somehow enable him to fulfill it. She knew him too well to doubt his good intentions, and was too good a woman to further reproach him therefor, though she did not share his faith about his being able to keep his promise.
Time passed without his securing any money until the day before he was to pay it. On the morning of that day when he was out in the yard attending to his chores he noticed a fairly well-defined path, that he had not observed before, leading from his chicken coop into a patch of brush that grew near. Following the path out into the brush, he there found a big nest full of eggs. Carrying them into the house, he met his wife at the door, who was just coming out to exhibit to him a good-sized chunk of butter which she had just taken out of the churn—ever so much more than she had been in the habit of getting. Their surprise was mutual when he counted out before her eyes thirty clean, fresh-looking eggs—all the more surprising because they had both previously thought they were getting all the eggs their hens produced.
While they were still beaming with satisfaction over their good fortune, a knock was heard at the door, and upon opening it a stranger, an overland immigrant, was met, who inquired if they had any butter and eggs to sell. The eggs just brought in were pointed out with the remark that he might have them, and the good wife also produced the lump of freshly-made butter. The stranger said he would be glad to buy both, and if they could spare him some buttermilk also he would regard that as a favor. He was assured that they would be glad to do so, and that he could have them at his own price.
He produced from his wallet a diminutive coin, such as they had never seen before, and offered it to them, and Brother Parkin inquired, "What is that?" "That is a two-and-a-half dollar gold piece," the stranger replied.
"Well," said Brother Parkin, "I have no change and that is entirely too much. Have you no small change?"
The stranger told him to keep it. He was welcome to it. That he was glad to get the butter, eggs and buttermilk at any price, as he had applied in vain at so many houses for them that he had begun to despair about being able to get any.
The stranger carried away his small purchase, rejoicing, and Brother and Sister Parkin were profuse in their thanks to him, and very grateful to the Lord, for having inspired him to supply them with the means of fulfilling the promise made to the Bishop.
Sister Parkin was so impressed with the fact that the money had come as a special providence from the Lord, and so thankful that her husband's honor could now be saved that she actually shed tears of joy, and assured him that she would never more reproach him for being too rash in trying to do his duty as a Latter-day Saint, and hoped never again to be lacking in faith that the Lord will provide.
The day following, being Sunday, he attended meeting as usual, and presented the gold piece to the Bishop with the remark that it was his donation to help immigrate the poor. The Bishop accepted it with a "God bless you, Brother Parkin; yours is the first money paid of all that was promised."