The Trek Video!

Here it is!

The final trek video from the fireside Sunday night.

Feel free to download as desired.

Reach To Rescue: Trek 2014 from David Landeen on Vimeo.

Trek Reunion Fireside

Save the date and be excited!

Every member in the stake,

age 12 and up is invited.

Sunday, August 24th, 7:00 PM

At the Stake Center

in the Chapel.

Please feel free to share the video by email or social media

with anyone you want to invite!

Video can also be seen here or here

Photo Sharing!

Hi All!

First of all THANK YOU so much for all your hard work and dedication and everything  you did to help make our Trek a success.  J  It would not have been the same without you.  I am so overwhelmingly filled with joy over how well things went and over the amazing experience that was shared with all of you. 

I’ve created an online photo album where we can share and collaborate all the photos taken.  Brother Landeen (our trek historian) would love to see your photos as well, so he can begin putting together a video for our Trek Reunion fireside (more details to come on that, but look forward to sometime in August – likely the 24^th).

To view the album click this link or copy the following URL into your browser address bar: http://www.yogile.com/pioneertrek

IMPORTANT:  This photo album is password protected. To view it you need to enter the password.  Please email Sister McHood if you would like the password.

You may add your own photos to this album once you are logged on, or by sending an email to pioneertrek@yogile.com with the images attached to your email.  They will be automatically added to the album online. (The password needs to be put as the subject line of the email) 

Let me know if you have any questions or problems uploading. 

I can’t wait to see all of YOUR photos!

Sister McHood

Trek Thoughts

So, today’s thought, is not a pioneer story.  It is a speech given just last night by President Utchdorf in Ogden for their Pioneer Days Celebration.  It showed up in my news feed this morning, and I loved reading through it.

You can read the entire text of the talk here if you want, but here are some highlights that I particularly enjoyed:

In the life to come, I will be eager to meet with those legendary giants who gave so much to found these cities here in the valleys of the mountains. I think they will be pleased by our interest in them. I think they will be humbled by our admiration. But I also believe that they will be far more concerned not about what they did, but about what we did as a result of their sacrifice. 

I have a feeling they will be pleased far more by our performance than by applause, praise, or parades. They will want to know if we gained anything from the hard-won lessons they learned through tribulation and trial. They will want to know if their sacrifice and endurance made a difference to us and to our children…

As I think about our pioneer heritage, one of the most moving things that comes to mind is the song “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” Those who made that long journey often sang this hymn during their trek. They sang it at night as the campfire was fading, giving way to the darkness of night. When I think of the lyrics of that hymn and the context in which it was sung, it brings tears to my eyes. I am very much aware that all was not well with these Saints. All they had to do was to look around and see how it really was. They were plagued by sickness, heat, fatigue, cold, fear, hunger, pain, doubt, and even death. But in spite of having every reason to shout, “All is notwell,” they cultivated an attitude that we cannot help admiring today. They looked beyond their troubles to eternal blessings. They were grateful in their circumstances. I am in awe of those wonderful souls who, despite every evidence to the contrary, sang with all the conviction of their souls: “All is well.”

The pioneers looked out for one another. They cared for each other irrespective of their social, economic, or political background. Even when it slowed their progress, even when it caused inconvenience, even when it meant personal sacrifice and toil, they helped each other. In our goal-driven and partisan world, individual or party objectives can sometimes take precedence over taking care of fellowmen or strengthening the kingdom of God. In today’s society, reaching certain ideological goals can appear to be a measure of our worth. Setting and achieving goals can be a wonderful thing. But when success in reaching goals comes at the expense of disregarding, ignoring, or hurting others, the cost of that success may be too precious. The pioneers not only looked after those in their company, but they considered those who came after them—they planted crops for the wagon trains that followed to harvest, whoever those harvesters might be. They included people of all walks of life. They learned the practical benefits of helping others. It must have given them comfort to know that just as they reached out to others, when the time came that they needed help, others would reach out to them. In our day, it is easy to isolate ourselves, look only to our own desires, and discount the interests of others. The pioneers knew the strength of family and friends. And because they depended on each other they became strong.  Friends became family. They knew that becoming insulated and thinking primarily of themselves was a road that would lead to almost certain disaster. In our world, examples of self-interest and self-indulgence are so abundant. It is very easy to slip into that mindset. The pioneers serve as a good reminder of why we must break away from the temptation to isolate ourselves and, instead, reach out to help each other.  We must have compassion and love for one another.

When the pioneers sang “Come, Come, Ye Saints,” they voiced a third lesson: “But with joy wend your way.”…The pioneers, those wonderful souls who sacrificed so much, went without and hungered for even the most basic of necessities to survive. The pioneers understood something about happiness. They understood that happiness doesn’t come as a result of luck or accident. It most certainly doesn’t come from having all of our wishes come true. Happiness doesn’t come from external circumstance.  It comes from the inside—regardless of what is happening around us. If they were here with us today there is no doubt in my mind that they would tell us we can be gloriously happy even if our favorite TV show is cancelled, traffic comes to a crawl, the rain spoils our picnic, or the fast food worker forgot to include straws or packets of ketchup at the drive-through window. I do not need to tell you stories of pioneer tribulations or the deprivations they faced. I do not need to tell you of how they went without food, how they suffered in sickness, endured heat and cold, and how they tearfully buried their loved ones in shallow graves. And yet, listen! Can you hear them? Can you hear their voices singing? “We’ll make the air with music ring, shout praises to our God and King.” Oh, what inspiration we can take from this. When we complain about a Church meeting that has gone four minutes over its allotted time, perhaps we can hear the voices of those blessed pioneers: “Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? 'Tis not so; all is right.” When we cover our face with our hands and complain that someone else got the promotion, someone else got the part, someone else got the biggest slice of pizza, it might be helpful to remind ourselves that there is a difference between the profound and trivial….

The pioneers had their trials. We have ours. Some might say theirs were much more difficult than ours, but I am not so certain. We sometimes look back on what the pioneers had to endure and with a sigh of relief say, “Thank goodness I didn’t live in that time. I couldn’t have survived.” But I wonder if those courageous pioneers, had they been able to see us today, might not have voiced the very same concern. Of course times and circumstances are different today. They had their challenges—we have ours. They had their successes—we have ours. But as the circumstances may have changed, the principles for respectfully and successfully living together as a caring and prospering community under God have not changed. They remain the same…  From the pioneers we can learn to have faith and trust in God; we can learn to be compassionate to others; we can learn that work and industry not only bless us temporally but spiritually and that happiness is available to us no matter our circumstances.

In the end, the best way we can honor the pioneers—the best way for us to repay our debt of gratitude to them—…is by incorporating into our own lives the faithfulness to God’s commandments, the compassion and love for our fellowmen, the industry, optimism, and joy the pioneers demonstrated so well in their own lives. As we do so, we can reach across the decades of time and take the hands of those noble pioneers in ours. We can add our own voices to theirs as we sing with them the great pioneer anthem and “make the air with music ring, shout praises to our God and King; above the rest these words we’ll tell—all is well!  All is well!”

 Can't wait to see you all bright and early Thursday morning dressed in your pioneer best!

Love, 

Sister McHood

Pioneer Stories - Ole Madsen

The Madsen family lived in Tornved, Sjælland, Denmark, where Ole was a farmer. They joined the Church in 1853. Church meetings were often held in their home, and in 1854 the Vig Branch was organized there.
Family members were persecuted after their baptism. Christena recalled: "The missionaries held meetings in our home while a mob raged outside throwing eggs at the windows, and we children were not allowed to go to school because we were Mormons, so we did not get the education we should."  For three years, Ole Madsen served the Church in his Aaronic Priesthood offices. He was ordained an elder in March 1856, just before the family left for Copenhagen, where they joined with other Saints who were journeying to Zion.
Ole Madsen paid in full the passage for his family. He also paid most of the passage for 60-year-old Kirsten Knudsen and a smaller amount for an unknown person.  On April 23 the Madsens boarded the steamship Rhoda with 156 other emigrating Saints from the Scandinavian Mission. 
After a long voyage to Liverpool, and then on board the Thornton to America the company arrived at the campground in Iowa City, where Ole helped build handcarts and Ane helped sew tents. The Danish Saints had five tents, with 19 or 20 people in each one. The Madsen family was assigned to share a tent with the Jens Nielson, Peter Larsen, and Rasmus P. Hansen families from Denmark and 60-year-old Lars Wandelin, a watchmaker from Sweden. Ten-year-old Ane Marie Madsen now had two girls her age to play with on the trip: Bodil Mortensen (with the Nielson family) and Sophie Larsen. Five-year-old Anders Madsen had Niels Nielson with whom to share adventures.
By October 23 the Madsen family had arrived in Wyoming. For more than two weeks, they had endured a shortage of food, and for five days they had endured winter storms. A handful of rescuers had arrived two days earlier. Ole Madsen’s wife and children needed his strength more than ever, and Ole did not let them down. Through the blizzard and across Rocky Ridge, Ole helped and protected his family. He carried them across the streams so they would not be wet. Hannah recalled seeing “their exhausted and sick father pushing a handcart with his young son Anders strapped on top.” The Willie company journal tersely recorded, “Crossed several creeks on the road. Several men were near frozen through the day.” By the time the Madsen family reached the camp at Rock Creek Hollow, Ole’s boots were frozen to his legs. Hannah described how her father lay down, wrapped himself in a blanket, and died during the night. The next morning, she said, “with the help of some of their friends, a shallow grave was scraped out in a wash to the side of the road.” Ole Madsen was buried in a common grave with 12 others who had died after crossing Rocky Ridge. Christena recalled the events of that tragic night: "Mother suffered a great deal, [and Father] pulled his handcart all day without having anything to eat. ... He pulled the cart all day, without food, cold and hungry. ... [He] went to bed and the next morning [he] was dead. ... That same night several others died, one [a] small girl 10 years old... They who died that night were [buried] with their boots or shoes on and covered. That night the wolves howled all night." Ten-year-old Ane Marie Madsen lost her father and her friend Bodil that day. She recalled that the women and men were crying, but the children did not cry “because they received a larger portion of food that morning, as parents could not eat all of it. ... It consisted of a small scone about the size of the palm of your hand.” Christena remembered her mother’s gnawing hunger: “[The rescuers] baked flap jacks, as they called them. Sometimes they would burn them [and] throw them away. Mother would pick them up, take them into the bushes, and eat them, she was so hungry.”
With the help of the rescuers, Ane Madsen and her daughters and young son continued their journey another nine days before they met enough rescue wagons at Fort Bridger that they could ride the final 113 miles to Salt Lake City. Christena Madsen’s daughter recorded: "They pulled and pushed the handcart, until their hands were so cold and fingers so crooked they never again came back into shape. ... They arrived in Salt Lake City ... homeless, penniless, [able] to speak only in Danish, but they acknowledged the hand of God in their deliverance. They had left all that was near and dear to them to come to Zion to live the gospel of Jesus Christ [and] be in fellowship with Christ the Lord."
I love Ole Madsen's example of sacrifice.  I love that he carried his wife and children across the river to spare them from the cold, but ended up dying himself.  It is the ultimate story of rescue in the sense that he gave his life for those he loved.
Have a great week!
Sister McHood

Pioneer Stories - Charlotte & Betsy Mee

Charlotte and Betsy Mee.  

Charlotte Mee, age 20, and Betsy Mee, age 14, traveled to Zion with the Martin Handcart Company. They were headed for Nephi, Utah, where their married sister, Sarah Mee Wright, had immigrated previously. The girls’ father had died in 1845 and their mother in 1848, so the girls had all worked very hard to accomplish their goals.

To complicate things, Charlotte had an accident in 1853 which left her crippled. Charlotte wrote: "When I was seventeen years old, I sprained or broke some of the ligaments in my ankle and the doctor said I must lose my leg, but I refused to have it amputated. I was forced to use crutches for nearly four years." The use of crutches, however, did not keep Charlotte from her commitment to travel over 1,300 miles to her promised land. Besides her crutches, she had to rely on the kindness of her sister, Betsy, as well as the others close to her in the company.

Charlotte wrote: "Part of the way I walked, and part of the way I was hauled in a wagon or handcart. One day I walked and crawled eight miles, and my knees finally bled. We had a very hard trip." Charlotte had surgery on her ankle shortly after arriving in the Salt Lake Valley. She used her crutches off and on throughout her life.

Charlotte and Betsy both lived long and honorable lives. Betsy had 10 children, six of whom preceded her in death. Her granddaughter wrote: "Grandmother told me stories and read to me . . . taught me nursery rhymes . . . My most unforgettable picture of my grandmother is seeing her sitting in her rocker at one end of the kitchen range, reading her Bible or Book of Mormon or knitting. She knit socks for all her grandchildren." (Leda Thompson Jensen) Betsy lived to be 80 years old.

Charlotte married twice and had only one child who died as a toddler. She wrote: "I have never regretted coming to Zion, even though my life has been one of hardship and trial." Charlotte lived to be 81 years old.

It's a short story about the two sisters, but I really think it is remarkable.  They were really just teenagers, no parents, making this incredible sacrifice to follow their faith and come to Zion.  It reminded me of something I read in "The Price We Paid", it said: "Although God sometimes intervenes and removes trials, whether caused by weather, natural disaster, illness, accident, bad decisions, or simply the natural course of mortality, such direct intervention seems to be the exception. Taking away all or even most of these problems would compromise the purposes of mortality, so people are often left to bear them. Nonetheless, that does not mean God is not hearing or helping. As he did with the handcart pioneers, if he does not deliver his children from adversity, he will strengthen their backs to bear it (see Mosiah 24:14–15; Alma 36:3, 27). He will also call and inspire other loving people to be instruments in his hands to minister to their relief (see Jacob 2:19; Mosiah 4:26; D&C 38:35).”

Have a great week!
Sister McHood

Pioneer Stories - Susannah Stone

Most people in the Willie company traveled with at least one other family member, and some traveled as large extended families. In contrast, Susannah Stone was the only member of her family to make the journey. Like Emily Hill, she studied the scriptures in her youth and yearned for more than her parents' church could provide. As she studied, she wished she could have lived in the days of apostles and prophets, not yet knowing that apostles and prophets were once again on the earth. When she was about 18, she learned of the Restoration and was baptized. "When I heard it preached, I hailed it with joy," she wrote.
After joining the Church in 1848, Susannah wanted to gather to Zion. "My parents, relatives, and friends did all in their power to keep me from coming to America," she wrote, "but I had the spirit of gathering and the Lord opened the way and I came to Utah in 1856 with a handcart company." Susannah was 25 when she left for Zion with the Willie Company.
During the trek she had felt miraculously sustained by the power of God. She later wrote:
"We traveled on, feeling that the Lord would protect his Saints, and so he did. Although we passed through many trying scenes, his protecting care was over us. . . ."I often think of the songs we sang to encourage us on our toilsome journey. It was hard to endure, but the Lord gave us strength and courage. . . ."We waded through the cold streams many times, but we murmured not, for our faith in God and our testimony of His work were supreme. And in the blizzards and falling snow we sat under our handcarts and sang, 'Come, come, ye Saints.'"
Throughout the journey, Susannah was also sustained by the fellowship of the Saints. She wrote:
"Only once did my courage fail. One cold, dreary afternoon, my feet having been frosted, I felt I could go no further, and withdrew from the company and sat down to await the end, being somewhat in a stupor. After a time I was aroused by a voice, which seemed as audible as anything could be, and which spoke to my very soul of the promises and blessings I had received, and which should surely be fulfilled and that I had a mission to perform in Zion. I received strength, and was filled with the Spirit of the Lord and arose and traveled on with a light heart. As I reached camp, I found a search party ready to go back to find me, dead or alive. I had no relatives, but many dear and devoted friends, and we did all we could to aid and encourage each other."
Susannah said that as the Willie company got close to the Salt Lake Valley, "we tried to make ourselves as presentable as we could to meet our friends. I had sold my little looking glass to the Indians for buffalo meat, so I borrowed one and I shall never forget how I looked." Susanna said that the journey had taken such a toll that some of her old friends did not recognize her.
Susannah met her future husband the day she arrived in the Salt Lake Valley. Recalling this encounter, she wrote:
"Among others who came to meet their friends was a handsome young man, Thomas Lloyd, who had emigrated the previous year, 1855. . . . He had proved his integrity to his newly found faith by renouncing everything offered by a wealthy aunt who had raised him; his parents had died when he was but two years old, and he would have fallen heir to her fortune, but was cut off because he did not renounce Mormonism."
Thomas Lloyd and Susannah Stone were soon married. They settled in Farmington for several years and then moved to Wellsville. They had 10 sons and 4 daughters. "All of them [are] healthy and all members of the faith," Susannah wrote late in her life, "and this is a joy to me in my declining years."Reflecting on the handcart experience, Susannah Stone Lloyd felt that she had received more than adequate compensation for the difficulties she had to endure:
"I am thankful that I was counted worthy to be a pioneer and a handcart girl. It prepared me to endure hard times in my future life. I often think of the songs we sang to encourage us on our toilsome journey. It was hard to endure, but the Lord gave us strength and courage. . . ."My frosted feet gave me considerable trouble for many years, but this was forgotten in the contemplation of the great blessings the gospel had brought to me and mine."Susannah died in Logan in 1920 at 89 years of age.
Mary Ellen Smoot, a former Relief Society general president, said:
"Having sold her own mirror to an Indian for a piece of buffalo meat, [Susannah] had not spent much time looking at herself. [When she did,] she did not recognize her own image. She was a different person, both inside and out. Over the course of rocky ridges and extreme hardship came a deep conviction. Her faith had been tried, and her conversion was concrete. She had been refined in ways that the very best mirror could not reflect. Susannah had prayed for strength and found it—deep within her soul. This is the kind of inner strength I would like to talk about. How do you and I become so converted to the truth, so full of faith, so dependent on God that we are able to meet trials and even be strengthened by them? It does not take much living to find out that life almost never turns out the way you planned it. Adversity and affliction come to everyone. Do you know anyone who would not like to change something about themselves or their circumstances? And yet I am sure you know many who go forward with faith. You are drawn to those people, inspired by them, and even strengthened by their examples."

Have a great week!
Sister McHood

Pioneer Stories - The Reeder & Hurren Families (Sister Anderson's Ancestors!)

With hands rough and callused from a lifetime of farming, David Reeder closed the cottage door for the last time. As he walked away, he reflected on the 27 years he had lived in that little home. He and Lydia had moved there soon after they were married, when David was hired to be the chief farmer on a large estate. Their children had been born and raised there, and Lydia had died there 16 years earlier, just weeks after their last child was born. David and his sons had found respite there after long days of plowing, planting, and harvesting. The family had enjoyed many happy evenings around the hearth.For most of those years, David Reeder thought he would never leave the green hills of Suffolk, England. Then in the spring of 1851, two missionaries came teaching the restored gospel. Among the first people to accept their message were David’s oldest son, George Reeder, and his son-in-law, James Hurren. Before long, David and his other children were also baptized. A branch of the Church was organized with James Hurren as president.Two of David’s children, George and Mary, journeyed to Utah in 1853. Three years later, David and his two youngest children left England to join them. Traveling with David were James and ElizaHurren and their three children. Eliza was David’s oldest daughter. She and James were expecting another baby in less than three months.The story of the Reeder family’s journey to Zion comes primarily from a memoir written by Robert Reeder, David’s youngest son, who was 19 when he emigrated. Describing the voyage from Liverpool to New York City, Robert wrote, “I was sick on the way over and could not eat much. Such food as they had on sea fare consisted of what they called sea biscuits, salt pork, beef, and brown sugar and vinegar.” Eating very little, Robert became so weak that he needed help walking. When the ship finally reached New York after six weeks at sea, he was most grateful for one simple thing: “I was very glad [to] get a piece of bread once more.”Robert regained his strength during the 10-day journey by rail and steamboat to Iowa City. The Saints camped there for three weeks while finishing handcarts and making other preparations for their trek west. During that time, Robert’s work consisted mostly of guarding cattle. With two handcart companies and two wagon companies still being outfitted, emigration leaders had amassed a sizable herd—at least 900 oxen, beef cattle, and milk cows. “While waiting there we had to herd those cattle night and day,” Robert said.
In Iowa City, the most important event for the Reeder and Hurren families was the birth of Eliza’s baby, a daughter named Selena. The next day, the Willie company set out with their handcarts. Eliza and Selena remained behind another day and then were “put ... into a wagon drawn by a span of wild mules.” Two weeks later, Selena died near Newton, Iowa. Her body was covered with a small cloth and buried in a grave that her family would never see again. Four-year-old Emma Hurren recalled her father lifting her up to see the burial of her baby sister.The Willie company reached Florence, Nebraska Territory, on August 11. Although the season was late, the Reeder and Hurren families were among the approximately 400 members of the company who left Florence on August 16 for the final 1,000 miles of the journey.Robert vividly recalled the night of September 3, when 30 of the oxen that pulled the supply wagons were drawn away during or after a buffalo stampede. Because the wagons were too heavy for the oxen that remained, “some of the flour was taken out of the wagons and put on the handcarts according to the strength of the party drawing them.” Robert said that James Hurren was “considered one of the strongest men in the company [and] had five sacks put on his cart besides two small girls that were not able to walk."  ...Eliza, who was still grieving for their baby’s death, helped her husband pull the cart.
Diminished wagon teams and heavier handcarts slowed the Willie company’s progress. “Our provisions were going fast and we were making little headway,” Robert recalled.  Sometime during the long pull across Nebraska, Robert’s father began to falter. Robert wrote poignantly about his father’s determination—and his death near Fort Laramie after he had pulled his handcart 800 miles:"My father, David Reeder, would start out in the morning and pull his cart until he would drop on the road. He did this day after day until he did not arise early on October [1], 1856. He was found dead in his bed. ... [My] Sister Eliza wrapped a cherished sheet around him, and we placed him in a shallow grave, hoping the wolves would not disturb. We must go on our way in silent mourning and in a weakened condition."
The day after David Reeder died, the Willie company voted to reduce their rations, hoping to stretch their flour until help arrived. During the next two weeks, they traveled 177 miles to Independence Rock. Already worn down, the people became even weaker on reduced rations. “Some would sit down by the roadside and die,” Robert recalled. Near Independence Rock, such a loss was again personal to Robert:"My younger sister, Caroline, 17 years old, after traveling all day and seeing the camp being made for the night, took off her apron to tie some sagebrush in to bring into the camp. She sat down to rest, leaning on her bundle, exhausted. They found her chilled and dying and carried her to camp. She died without gaining consciousness. She, too, was placed in an unmarked grave. ... Her death was another real loss to us, but we must hurry on."
They traveled 16 miles that day, racing against their diminishing flour supply, racing against the season. But only three days later, on October 19, their flour was gone and the winter storms began. That day they pressed forward against these adversities to travel another 16 miles, finally reaching the sixth crossing of the Sweetwater River at dark. For the first of 21 consecutive nights, they made their camp in the snow. Subcaptain William Woodward wrote: “It was a sorry sight, ... 400 people with handcarts, short of bedding, and to sleep on the cold ground. One thought is enough for a lifetime.”The next day, Captain Willie and Joseph Elder went searching for rescue wagons that they hoped were nearby. With “not a morsel of food in camp” while they were gone, Robert scavenged for whatever he could find:"I myself have sat by the fireside with Brother Hurren and scraped and singed hair off a piece of rawhide which had been taken off discarded handcarts that had been pulled through the sand hundreds of miles. It was hard, but we would boil and soften it and cut it up into little pieces and put it in our pockets to chew. ... It helped to keep life in us."
Captain Willie and Joseph Elder found the rescuers that evening but couldn’t get back to camp until the next day. The rescuers had stopped to wait out the storm, not knowing the desperate circumstances of the Willie company. Robert said that when “they heard the report, [they] came to us as quickly as possible [and] reached us after we had been in camp forty-eight hours.” Decades later, Mary Hurren, Robert’s niece who was eight years old during the journey, could still hear the sounds and feel the joy of the rescuers’ arrival:"Captain Willie went ahead through the snow to meet the relief wagons and urge them to hurry as the people were freezing and starving to death. If help had not come when it did, there would have been no one left to tell the tale. As a small girl I could hear the squeaking of the wagons as they came through the snow before I was able to see them. Tears streamed down the cheeks of the men, and the children danced for joy. As soon as the people could control their feelings, they all knelt down in the snow and gave thanks to God for his kindness and goodness unto them. The last supply of food in the camp had been given out two days before the relief wagons came. They came just in time to save our lives."
On October 23, two days after the rescuers arrived, the Willie company faced the longest, most difficult day of their journey: the ascent of Rocky Ridge. Robert’s history says, “We pulled our carts sixteen miles in a blinding snow storm and arrived at Rock Creek, where we sheltered against the hill as best we could.” Thirteen people died from this ordeal and were buried in one large grave. Eight-year-old Mary Hurren recalled a man lifting her up so she could see one of her friends (Bodil Mortensen) who was among the dead.On November 9 the Willie company finally arrived in the Salt Lake Valley. Robert Reeder, James and Eliza Hurren, and the Hurrens’ three oldest daughters all survived the journey. They were met by Robert and Eliza’s oldest brother, George, who had emigrated in 1853. After greeting them, George asked, “Where are Father and Caroline?” James Hurren explained the circumstances of both of their deaths. George had no time to dwell on his grief because young Mary Hurren’s legs were so badly frozen that he needed to seek medical help immediately.The Reeder and Hurren families experienced tragic losses on their journey to Zion, and their difficulties were not over. But all of those who survived went on to live long, productive lives devoted to their families and their religion. In doing so, they left a priceless legacy for their posterity.
Mary's parents, James and Eliza, both lived to be 82, dying in Hyde Park, Cache County. Her two sisters who survived the journey, Emma and Sarah, lived to be 85 and 94. Although the family had suffered greatly, Eliza Hurren is reported to have often said, "With all our trials, [our] weary traveling, burying our loved ones, we have never felt to murmur or complain or regret the steps we have taken."

I really marvel at the ability of these pioneers in the face is so much grief as they had loved ones die along the way, and in the midst of extreme hardship, to carry on and remain firm in their faith. The Reeder and Hurren families stuck together helping each other along, and holding each other up through their grief. They really are stalwart examples of "reaching to rescue", and we are blessed because of their faith to have Sister Anderson as an example to us, as she is a direct ancestor of the Hurren's.  

Have a great week!
Sister McHood

Pioneer Story - George P. Waugh

George P. Waugh did not have the physical strength of a younger man, but he had an incredible ability to inspire others. Though sixty-eight years old, when surrounded by people in need, he forgot himself and dedicated his time to easing their burdens.

George was a veteran British soldier and convert to the Church when he sailed on the Horizon out of Liverpool in 1856. Edward Martin, called to preside over the Saints aboard the ship, chose Brother Waugh as his second counselor. Perhaps it was the life of a soldier that taught him leadership and gave him the ability to inspire people to do more than they thought they could, but being a soldier had not hardened George’s heart.

During the voyage, George went throughout the ship, seeking out those who were sick, comforting, and giving priesthood blessings to them. John Jaques recalled, “On shipboard [Father Waugh was] lively as a cricket.” The Saints affectionately called George, “Father Waugh” (Salt Lake Daily Herald, 19 Jan. 1879, 1).

When the handcart journey was well under way, George Waugh continued to look after others. Calling upon his experience as a soldier, tempered by compassion and love, he took charge of the “aged advance guard.” John Southwell recalled Father Waugh’s daily routine with the company’s oldest, most infirm members:

“There were the invalids to be looked after and cared for. An old gentleman . . . was elected to this office. He would muster them together, make an early start, and travel them so far as they were able to walk. Those who tired out would fall back to be taken up by some young man and carried to camp on his handcart. . . .

“In his company was one of the worst cripples I ever saw to be a traveler. His lower limbs were paralyzed and his body badly deformed, but he was strong in the faith. He was able to propel himself with surprising speed with the use of crutches” (John Southwell, Autobiographical Sketch. LDS Church Archives).

Josiah Rogerson also wrote of the noble heroics of George Waugh as he led his fellow elderly Saints across Nebraska:

“Father George P. Waugh, then between 65 and 70 years of age, would be seen and heard calling between tents for his company to muster between 7 and 7:30 a.m. These consisted of all the aged who [were] not required to pull at the carts. . . .

“Away they would start ahead of [us], singing and talking and cheering each other with the hallowed reminiscences of the early days of the gospel in the British Isles. . . . The oldest and most feeble of this advance guard would be picked up by the wagons as often as possible. . . .

“[After] an hour or two for our noon rest,. . . we were going again. The same aged advance guard [was] ahead of us, with Father Waugh . . . , one of the most devoted Scottish worthies that ever came to Utah” (Josiah Rogerson, Papers. LDS Church Archives).

Author Andrew Olsen wrote of George Waugh’s final journey, “After caring for so many people for more than six months and 5,000 miles, George Waugh would eventually wear down” (Andrew D. Olsen, The Price We Paid, 298).

John Jaques recalled, “In the latter part of the journey he failed gradually and [then] rapidly until he died on Canyon Creek” (Salt Lake Daily Herald, 12 Jan. 1879, 1).

He remained faithful when the Saints were stranded on the Wyoming plains by fierce October blizzards, and even after the handcart company had distributed the very last of the rations, he reaffirmed his willingness to lay down his life for the Lord. Rescue arrived, and the company was saved, but George Waugh had given all his energies to helping his fellow Saints reach Zion: he had made good on his willingness to give his life to the Lord, as he died within sight of the Salt Lake Valley on November 29, 1856.

Josiah Rogerson related arriving at the end of the trek when a lady approached the rescue wagons, asking for Father Waugh. He said his mother directed her to the wagon “where she could find the veteran. She was there instantly, and found her father, wrapped in a sheet, and dead. . . . The aged Scotch worthy had braved and weathered the storms of the Rocky mountains from the Platte bridge, and when within eighteen to twenty miles from the valley, and the Zion he worshiped, . . . succumbed to the hardships of the journey, between the Big and Little mountains, and was brought into the city for interment” (Salt Lake Herald, 8 Dec. 1907).

I loved reading this story today. George was a remarkable example of sacrifice service, reaching to rescue the other members of his company day in and day out as they trekked to Zion. He truly was willing to give everything (including his life) to The Lord. At sixty eight years old it is amazing that he lived as long as he did, and even more remarkable that he was able to help and serve so many others, putting their needs before his own. He truly exemplified, "When Ye are in the service of your fellow men, Ye are only in the service of your God".

Elder Won Yong Ko in General Conference, Oct 2005 said this about sacrifice and service, "In this last dispensation of the gospel, many pioneers lost their lives and made the ultimate sacrifice to keep their faith. Today we are not likely to be asked to make such a big sacrifice as giving up our lives, but we can see many examples of Saints who make painful sacrifices to keep their faith and testimonies alive. Maybe it is more difficult to make the small sacrifices in our daily lives. For instance, it could be regarded as a small sacrifice to keep the Sabbath day holy, to read the scriptures daily, or to pay our tithing. But these sacrifices cannot be easily made unless we have the mind and the determination to make the sacrifices that are needed to be able to keep those commandments. As we make these small sacrifices, we are compensated by more blessings from the Lord. King Benjamin said, “And ye are still indebted unto him, and are, and will be, forever and ever” (Mosiah 2:24). And, as he did with his own people, King Benjamin encourages us so that we will receive more blessings as we continue to obey the Lord’s word. I think that the very first blessing coming from sacrifice is the joy that we can feel when we pay the price. Perhaps the very thought that the sacrifice itself could be a blessing becomes a blessing. When we have that kind of thought and feel the joy, we might have received a blessing already....

Brothers and sisters, do not be afraid of sacrifice. Please enjoy the happiness and blessings from the sacrifice itself. 

Occasionally there is a time gap between the sacrifice and the blessing. The sacrifice may come according to our time schedule, but the blessing may not come by our, but by the Lord’s, calendar. Because of this, the Lord comforts us by saying, “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work” (D&C 64:33).

The blessings surely come to us. Please remember that the sacrifice itself might be a form of blessing. Let us make the sacrifice of small things.

When we read the Book of Mormon while rubbing our sleepy eyes, let us remember that we are following the counsel of our prophet and receive the joy that comes from that knowledge. We have many bills to pay, but when we pay tithing, let us feel joy for having the opportunity to donate something to the Lord. And then greater blessings will be poured out on us. It will be just like our surprise and joy when we receive an unexpected gift.

As President Spencer W. Kimball said, “As we give, we find that ‘sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven!’ [“Praise to the Man,” Hymns, no. 27.] And in the end, we learn it was no sacrifice at all” (“Becoming the Pure in Heart,” Ensign, Mar. 1985, 5). I pray that we will all become Saints willing to sacrifice and become eligible for the Lord’s special blessings. The Lord will watch over us so that it will not be too difficult to endure any sacrifice."

Have a great week! 

Sister McHood

9 Days, 12 Hours, 48 Minutes until Trek!

Oh My.

Can you believe it?

We are SO close.

I hope you are ready and prepared.

{I'm not QUITE there yet, but I'm close!}

If you don't already have it in hand,

make sure you download the packing list here.

A few items I'd like to point out specifically:

Note that you are supposed to bring a sack lunch with you on the buses

{don't forget that, or you will be hungry and sad!}

Also, you are bringing your own mess kit {plate/bowl + utensils}

something that can be washed and re-used.

Lastly, make sure you have something to carry all your personal belongings in.

For that men, that means a "possible" bag,

for the women it can be a "possible" bag, OR an apron with large pockets.

This is where you will carry your water bottle, chapstick, sunscreen, etc.

email Sister McHood if you have any questions!

Pioneer Stories - Joseph & Emily Wall (siblings)

Joseph and Emily Wall, two siblings who were emigrating on their own, did so with the blessing of their parents. Joseph was 17 and Emily 16 when they left England, the oldest of nine children. Because the family could not afford to emigrate together, Joseph and Emily were sent ahead, and the rest of the family hoped to follow soon afterward.

Before Joseph and Emily left England, Elder Orson Hyde gave them a blessing in which he promised that they would complete their journey safely if they were faithful and obeyed the counsel of those in authority. The fulfillment of this promise would require not only great faith but great sacrifice by Emily to help her brother.

Sometime after leaving Florence, they faced a serious challenge. During one of the river crossings, Joseph nearly drowned. When he was going under the water for the third time, he was rescued by someone who grabbed his hair. Joseph soon became too ill to walk, and company leaders wanted him to stay behind and wait for the next company. Emily refused to leave her brother, so she promised to pull him in the handcart if they would be permitted to continue. With the help of a young girl, Emily pulled Joseph for several days. In part due to this loving sacrifice, both Joseph and Emily made it to the Salt Lake Valley, as Elder Orson Hyde had promised in the blessing he gave them before they left England.

After arriving in Utah, Joseph and Emily Wall went to Manti. Emily then lived for a time in Salt Lake City with Amelia Young, one of Brigham Young's wives. In 1860, Joseph relocated to Gunnison, where he helped put in the first dam, plow the first field, and raise the first crop of grain.

In 1860, Emily married William Cowley, who had helped rescue the handcart companies four years earlier. During the rescue he had asked Emily if she would marry him someday, and she had said he would have to write to her mother in England to ask permission. After arriving in Salt Lake City, William was called away for three years to set up a printing press in San Bernardino. When he returned, he found Emily and asked if she remembered his proposal. She did, but she wanted to know if he'd written to her mother. He told her he had—and that her mother had said she would approve the marriage if William was a good man.

The rest of Joseph and Emily's family finally made it to Utah in 1862. When Joseph met his family in Salt Lake City, he also met Selena Stevens, a friend of two of his sisters. Joseph and Selena were married in 1863 in the Endowment House. They went back to Manti, where Joseph worked in a grist mill.

Joseph and Selena Wall lived out their lives in Sevier County, strong in the faith. They had eight children, two of whom lived into their 90s. Their second child, Selena Ann, lived until 1962. Joseph died in 1898 at the age of 59 and was buried in Glenwood. His wife had died one year earlier, and his mother died one year later.

Emily and William Cowley became parents of 12 children. They lived in Logan for a time before moving to Salt Lake City and eventually settling near the rest of the family in Sevier County. Emily died in 1908 at age 68 in Venice, Sevier County, and was buried in Richfield. William Cowley died in 1915.

Joseph and Emily Wall's story is simple, but very sweet. I love that as young teenage siblings, they not only travelled alone, without their parents or other siblings, but they truly rescued each other and lifted one another along the way.  I can imagine the scene of Emily pulling her brother in the cart with only the help of a young girl. I know (from first hand knowledge) that this would have been a very difficult task indeed. I admire their courage, their love for one another, their fortitude and their faith!

Have a great week!

Sister McHood

Pioneer Stories - John & Maria Linford

John Linford was born on August 28, 1808 in Eltisley, England approximately sixty miles north of London. He grew up on a farm until as a young man he bagan an apprenticeship to become a shoe maker. When his apprenticeship was complete he started his own business in Graveley, England just a few miles from where he was born. He married Maria Bentley Christian on June 24, 1833.

During this time period the people of England were being prepared to hear and accept the gospel. Several apostles were sent to Great Britain as missionaries. Between 1837 and 1852 there were 57,000 convert baptisms.

John can be described as being a “seeker”.  A seeker is someone who believes in Jesus Christ and knows the Bible and its teahings. They drift from church to church in search of the ordinances and organization that existed during the time of Christ. [2] It is not surprising that when John heard Elder Joseph Fielding preach he was greatly impressed. John and Maria were baptized on December 9, 1842.

John was persecuted for this choice especially from his relatives. They said, “If we cannot persuade him to give up Mormonism, we will starve him to it by withholding our work”. [3] Indeed they did this and his business suffered greatly. He remained faithful and served as a counselor then president of the Graveley Branch. The Linfords saved for years in hopes of gathering to Zion. The establishment of the Perpetual Emigration Fund made it possible for the Linfords to emigrate.

John and Maria had six children. They emigrated with three sons, ages 11, 14, and 17. Two other children had died in infancy, and an older son, James, did not emigrate until 1861 because he was serving a mission at the time. Leaving him behind was especially hard because the family had been promised that if they emigrated, he would be released so he could go with them. "However," James later wrote, "when my parents received their notice of the time the ship would sail, my name was not on the notification. The only thing the family could do was to give up going or leave me to be a missionary. . . . It was a great disappointment to all of us, [but] I think I see the hand of the Lord in what occurred, for had I gone with my parents I might have died on the journey, as I was never healthy and strong and undoubtedly could not have withstood the hardships suffered by the handcart company."

The Linfords sold what they could and headed to Liverpool. They traveled to New York aboard the ship Thornton. The voyage from Liverpool to New York was mostly uneventful however they did experience some sea sickness. John kept a small black leather diary. One entry referenced his calling to be responsible to distribute food to his company. He  said, “I was called to take Part of this ward to see that they had theire water, Pork, Beef, &c. UnExpected to me as I am the same here not Ambisious. You will believe me if I say I did not ask for an office. I am well & All my family. and we enjoy ourselves first rate.”

The Linfords made the journey from New York to Iowa City without too much trouble. They became part of the James G. Willie company. In Iowa City they had to endure daily thunderstorms without shelter, poor living conditions and extreme temperatures. John became sick and never recovered.

Although sick he still endeavored to fulfill his responsibilities. John was called to be a tent leader. “The tent captain was expected to give all his time and attention to his company, to make sure that all allotments of one pint of flour for each person were given every twenty four hours and to equalize as nearly as possible all labor, or to act as the father over his family.” He wrote the names and ages of those in his tent in his diary.

His condition worsened and eventually he had to  be pulled in the handcart. As the company reached the Rocky Mountains snow began to fall. The snow was intense and they suffered greatly. His son Amasa recalled, “while father was sick and just before he died of starvation, Levi Savage emptied his flour sack to make him some skilly as it was called; after eating this he died.” John Linford died at 5:00 am on October 21 on the banks of the Sweetwater River. The rescue team would arrive later on that day.

Before he passed away, John’s wife asked if he was sorry they had undertaken the journey. He said, “No, Maria, I am glad we came. I shall not live to reach Salt Lake, but you and the boys will, and I do not regret all we have gone through if our boys can grow up and raise their families in Zion.”

John Linford died near the Sixth Crossing of the Sweetwater, but Maria and their three sons who accompanied them on the journey arrived in Utah safely. The Linfords were taken to Centerville to recuperate. 

In July 1857, Maria Linford married Joseph Rich, father of Apostle Charles C. Rich. He was kind and devoted to her and her sons, whom he called his own. In 1859, Maria was sealed to her deceased husband in the Endowment House by Brigham Young. Joseph Rich acted as proxy for John Linford. 

In 1864 the Rich family was called to help settle the Bear Lake Valley. Joseph, Maria, and her two youngest sons moved to Paris, Idaho, where they lived in a wagon box the first winter. Soon afterward, Joseph suffered a stroke. He died in 1866, leaving Maria a widow for the second time. During her nearly 20 years in Paris, she served as Relief Society president and helped organize the Primary. 

 Maria died in 1885 in North Ogden while visiting her son George. In 1937 her descendants had a special headstone placed at her gravesite in the North Ogden cemetery. Elder George Albert Smith attended the ceremony and dedicated the marker. Before offering the prayer, he spoke to the family about their ancestors: "[Maria] was filled with love, sacrifices, and devotion to family and church and great hardships endured for them. She never lost her faith as long as she lived. . . . My soul is stirred when I see all these younger generations. Will you live true to the faith of your ancestors? There is royal blood in your veins. Do strive to be worthy of all the sacrifices your ancestors have made for you."  

The Linfords' children remained true to their patent's legacy of faith. John Linford's great great grandson, Mark Empey Linford said, “John and Maria’s decision to be baptized set the course for literally thousands of Linfords…To this day, most of John and Maria’s posterity is Mormon. This religion has been passed along from generation to generation.”

As I read the Linford's story today I was struck by the enduring legacy they left for their children and all their posterity. It reminded me of a quote I read recently in Sheri Dew's book, "Women and The Priesthood". While this quote is aimed specifically at women, I think the principle can be applied to both women and men alike. Sister Dew writes, "If it ever was easy or comfortable being a Latter-day Saint, those days are likely over. But as latter-day women of God, we do have an especially noble calling and a work to do. We have not been asked to store wheat, as were our sisters of yesteryear. We have not been required to pull handcarts over Rocky Ridge. But we have been asked to store faith. We have been asked to be pure in a world that increasingly mocks purity. We have been asked to increase our capacity to receive revelation and pull down the power from heaven that God has granted his endowed sisters. We have been asked to model how women of God look and act—not only as beacons for the rising generation but for all of the house of Israel. We have been asked to stand tall and stand together in speaking for what we know to be true and right and divine. Our influence today can be greater than the influence of any group of women in the history of the world. The time has come for us to do things we have never done before. It is time to live up to the confidence that our Father demonstrated in us by sending us to earth now, when everything is on the line."

I LOVE this quote. I have confidence in you young women (and young men) that you ARE ready to stand tall and live true to the faith.

Have a great week!

Sister McHood

Handcarts (from "Remember the Journey")

Pioneer Stories - Patience and Tamar Loader

I've shared with you the stories of the James and Amy Loader, and I thought today it was worth sharing a few specific experiences of two of their children, Patience and Tamar.  

Tamar (22), was very much grieved when she left England because she had been unable to convert her sweetheart and he remained.  When she was only 100 miles into the 1,300 mile handcart trek, she became so ill that she had to be carried on a cart for the remaining 170 miles to Florence, Nebraska.  There she received a blessing from President Franklin D. Richards that she would walk again before the journey's end, which she did.

While crossing the plains, Tamar became discouraged both because of poor health and because she missed the young man she had left in England. At her lowest point, she had a dream that forecast a remarkable event. The next morning she told her mother that she had dreamed that her sweetheart came and stood beside her and he seemed so real. But he was not alone. Another man was with him . . . In the dream the sweetheart finally faded away but the other man remained. When Tamar first saw Thomas E. Ricks in the rescue party, she took her mother by the arm and said, ‘Mother, that’s the man.” She did marry Thomas Ricks (after whom Ricks college was named).

Patience also had spiritual experiences on her trek. She relates that one day as she was pulling the handcart through the deep snow, a strange man appeared to her: “He came and looked in my face. He said, ‘Are you Patience?’ I said, ‘Yes.’ He said, ‘I thought it was you. Travel on, there is help for you. You will come to a good place. There is plenty.’ With this he was gone. He disappeared. I looked but never saw where he went. This seemed very strange to me. I took this as someone sent to encourage us and give us strength.” The Loader family was met by rescuers at camp that night.

Patience also wrote: ‘We did not get but very little meat as the bone had been picked the night before and we did not have only the half of a small biscuit as we only was having four oz. of flour a day. This we divided into portions so we could have a small piece three times a day. This we eat with thankful hearts and we always as[k] God to bless to our use and that it would strengthen our bodies day by day so that we could perform our duties. And I can testify that our heavenly Father heard and answered our prayers and we was blessed with health and strength day by day to endure the severe trials we had to pass through on that terrible journey before we got to Salt Lake City. We know that if God had not been with us that our strength would have failed us . . . I can say we put our trust in God and he heard and answered our prayers and brought us through to the valleys.”

I am consistently impressed with the amazing faith of those pioneers and the remarkable fortitude they possessed.  Today I re-read Elder Oak's talk from the Oct General Conference, and I loved this quote from it:  "We should remember our first priority- to serve God - and like our pioneer predecessors, push our personal handcarts forward with the same fortitude they exhibited."  Something definitely worth striving for.

So many great lessons to be learned from the Loader family! 

Have a great week!

Sister McHood

Pioneer Stories - Amy Loader

                                                           

James Loader had died nearly a month before the last crossing of the Platte, leaving his wife, five daughters, and 10-year-old son to endure the most difficult part of the trek on their own. Telling of the family's trials on October 19, his daughter Patience wrote: "We came to the last crossing of the Platte River. [We] had orders from Captain Edward Martin to cross the river that afternoon and evening. . . . We started to cross the river and pull our own cart. The water was deep and very cold, and we were drifted out of the regular crossing and we came near to being drowned. The water came up to our armpits. Poor mother was standing on the bank screaming. As we got near the bank I heard [her] say, 'For God's sake, some of you men help my poor girls.' Mother said she had been watching us and could see we were drifting down the stream. Several of the brethren came down the bank of the river and pulled our cart up for us, and we got up the best way we could. . . .We had to travel in our wet clothes until we got to camp. Our clothing was frozen on us, and when we got to camp we had but very little dry clothing to put on. We had to make the best of our poor circumstances and put our trust in God our Father that we may take no harm from our wet clothes. It was too late to go for wood and water. The wood was too far away. That night the ground was frozen so hard we were unable to drive any tent pins and the tent was wet. When we [had taken] it down in the morning it was somewhat frozen, so we stretched it open the best we could and got in under it until morning."

The Martin company moved to Martin's Cove on November 4. To get to there, they had to trudge two and a half miles through the snow. Worse, they had to cross another river in wintry conditions. The pioneer trail's nine crossings of the Sweetwater River did not normally include this one, but Martin's Cove was off the trail, and the extra crossing was necessary to get there. Although the Sweetwater was not as wide or deep as the Platte, John Jaques wrote that "the passage of the Sweetwater at this point was a severe operation to many of the company. . . . It was the worst river crossing of the expedition."  

Recalling the last crossing of the Platte River two weeks earlier, many felt that they could not face a similar ordeal at the Sweetwater. Men and women shrank back and wept. Patience Loader said that when she saw the river, "I could not keep my tears back. I felt ashamed to let those brethren see me shedding tears. I pulled my old bonnet over my face so they should not see my tears." John Jaques provides the following account of a man who had a similar reaction: "When [we] arrived at the bank of the river, one [man], who was much worn down, asked in a plaintive tone, 'Have we got to go across there?' On being answered yes, he was so much affected that he was completely overcome. That was the last straw. His fortitude and manhood gave way. He exclaimed, 'Oh, dear! I can't go through that,' and burst into tears. His wife, who was by his side, had the stouter heart of the two at that juncture, and she said soothingly, 'Don't cry, Jimmy. I'll pull the handcart for you.'" As it turned out, rescuers carried both of them across. 

This crossing of the Sweetwater was the site of great heroism by some of the rescuers. Seeing how traumatized the people were by the prospect of wading through another freezing river, the rescuers carried many of them across. John Jaques identified four of these rescuers as David P. Kimball (17; son of Heber C. Kimball and brother of William Kimball), George W. Grant (17; son of Captain Grant), C. Allen Huntington (25), and Stephen W. Taylor (22).  By the time everyone was across, darkness was beginning to fall and these men had spent hours in the river. Recalling this service, Patience Loader wrote: "Those poor brethren [were] in the water nearly all day. We wanted to thank them, but they would not listen to [us]." Patience also reported that David Kimball "stayed so long in the water that he had to be taken out and packed to camp, and he was a long time before he recovered, as he was chilled through and [afterward] was always afflicted with rheumatism."

For many years before emigrating, Amy Loader had been in delicate health and was unable to walk even a mile. When she learned that she was expected to walk 1,300 miles—and to pull a handcart as well—she was understandably distressed. As a result, her voice against pulling a handcart is one of the strongest on record. Once she began the journey, however, she became a stalwart example of strength. After Amy Loader had walked more than 600 miles, her husband died. Looking ahead, Amy saw another 700 miles without a man to help pull the cart. The miles would be the most sandy, the most rocky, the most hilly—the most difficult even in favorable weather. They would include at least a dozen dreaded river crossings. Although Amy had already far exceeded what she thought she could do, she knew she would have to do even more. Besides bearing an increased burden of physical labor, she would be the sole parent in caring for her six children—all while grieving the loss of her husband. That three of her daughters were adults did not make their illnesses and struggles any less taxing for a loving mother. Amy Loader could have murmured or despaired. She could have told her adult daughters and even her younger daughters and 10-year-old son that they would have to pull her through. Instead, as conditions deteriorated, this 54-year-old woman of delicate health was one of the most resilient, resourceful, and hopeful people in the company. Patience Loader tells of her mother finding ways to keep extra socks and underskirts dry while crossing the rivers so her daughters could have some dry clothing afterward. Patience also tells of her mother finding creative ways to feed her children. But the depth of Amy Loader's love and influence is best revealed in the story of her dance at Martin's Cove. Patience recalled: "That night was a terrible cold night. The wind was blowing, and the snow drifted into the tent onto our quilts. That morning we had nothing to eat . . . until we could get our small quantity of flour. Poor mother called to me, 'Come, Patience, get up and make us a fire.' I told her that I did not feel like getting up, it was so cold and I was not feeling very well. So she asked my sister Tamar to get up, and she said she was not well and she could not get up. Then she said, 'Come, Maria, you get up,' and she was feeling bad and said that she could not get up." At that point Amy Loader would have been justified in raising her voice and desperately asking her daughters, "Do you want to die? Do you want me to die? Are you just going to lie there and freeze to death? Are you going to get up and do your part?" But there was no anger, no impatience, no frustration, no imposing of guilt—only this remarkable incident: Mother said, 'Come, girls. This will not do. I believe I will have to dance [for] you and try to make you feel better.' Poor, dear mother, she started to sing and dance [for] us, and she slipped down as the snow was frozen. In a moment we were all up to help [her,] for we were afraid she was hurt. She laughed and said, 'I thought I could soon make you all jump up if I danced [for] you.' Then we found that she fell down purposely, for she knew we would all get up to see if she was hurt. She said that she was afraid her girls were going to give out and get discouraged, and she said that would never do. . . . We [had never] felt so weak as we did that morning. My dear mother had kept up wonderfully all through the journey."

After being accused of apostasy for his family's objections to traveling by handcart, James Loader had declared his faith by vowing to pull a handcart even if he died on the road doing so. He ended up paying that price, dying near Ash Hollow, Nebraska. After thinking she could not walk even one mile, much less pull a handcart, Amy Loader walked nearly a thousand miles, riding in a wagon for only a brief time after her husband died and again after leaving Martin's Cove. James Loader's death left Amy with five daughters and a 10-year-old son to finish the most difficult part of the journey on their own. Amy could have become paralyzed by grief or bitter with resentment. After all, she had known better than to try this. Instead, she led and cheered even her adult daughters through times of starvation and frozen stupor. Largely through her faith and determination, she and all her children survived.

As we look at Amy Loaders story, as with all the pioneer stories, I see many lessons of faith and cheerful obedience. Her story made me think this week of the following quote by Elder Ballard:

And how will we feel then, as we stand shoulder to shoulder with the great pioneers of Church history? How will they feel about us? Will they see faith in our footsteps? I believe they will, particularly as they view our lives and experiences from the expanded perspective of eternity. Although our journeys today are less demanding physically than the trek of our pioneers 150 years ago, they are no less challenging. Certainly it was hard to walk across a continent to establish a new home in a dry western desert. But who can say if that was any more difficult than is the task of living faithful, righteous lives in today’s confusingly sinful world, where the trail is constantly shifting and where divine markers of right and wrong are being replaced by political expediency and diminishing morality. The road we travel today is treacherous, and the scriptures tell us it will continue to be so until the very end. But our reward will be the same as that which awaits worthy pioneers of all ages who live faithfully the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ, make right choices, and give their all to build the kingdom of God on earth.

I hope that as I face challenges in my life I can be as resilient, resourceful and hopeful as Amy Loader and that as I stand one day shoulder to shoulder with her she will indeed see faith in my footsteps. I see that as a worthy goal to strive for!

Have a great week!

Sister McHood