Registration and Check In

Registration and Check In Wednesday, July, 22, 2015!!

WEDNESDAY EVENING: ALL youth, Ma's, Pa's, Company Captains, and Stake Committee people will bring their buckets and bedrolls to the stake center to have them weighed and tagged (remember the 17 pound limit for the buckets).  Please review the schedule below and come during your ward's assigned time block.  This will help the process tremendously and keep people from waiting around longer than necessary.

THURSDAY MORNING:

EAT a hearty breakfast and pack a robust lunch!!  Although there will be a snack or two, dinner at 5:00 pm will be the first meal served.

3:45:  Busses arrive at the stake center

4:00:  Ma's, Pa's, Company Captains, & Stake Committee arrive.  We need your help loading the buckets/bedrolls and  equipment onto the busses.  We also need help with youth check in.

4:30:  Youth check in.  PLEASE ARRIVE ON TIME!!!  Everyone needs to be accounted for before leaving.  Busses will leave at the scheduled time.  Set FIVE alarm clocks if you are one of those people!  Ha!  Ha!

5:00:  Quick send off devotional and prayer for a safe trip.

5:20:  Load the busses and off we go!!!

WEDNESDAY CHECK IN SCHEDULE BY WARD

4:00 PM:  Hilltop  

5:00 PM:  Lake Hills & Skyview  

6:00 PM:  Hawthorne  

7:00 PM:  Shepherd & Hardin  

8:00 PM:  Alkali Creek & Roundup

9:00 PM:  Forsyth & Colstrip

Hardin, Roundup and Colstrip:  Housing is provided for Wednesday night.  

Young Women, Ma's & Pa's: Contact Teresa Larsen for your assignments.  
Young Men:  Contact Ernie Lovato for your assignments.

Robert Taylor Burton, Rescuer

"During one instance, he even gave up the very 

shirt off his back to provide a newborn baby extra warmth..."

Robert Taylor Burton, Rescuer

Robert was 35 years old when he was called to rescue the handcart companies stranded and starving in order to provide them with the food and clothes they so desperately needed. Robert was a very tedious record keeper, journaling of his events every day to the supplies he distributed. During one instance, he even gave up the very shirt off his back to provide a newborn baby extra warmth for the journey to the Great Salt Lake Valley. In sacrificing his own warmth for the comfort of the new baby, Robert exemplified the way he continued to live throughout his life. Among his final words of advice to his children was the admonition to “be kind to the poor.” Leading men of Utah who spoke at his funeral articulated his character in these words: “Genial; charitable; a general in the army of right, in the army of truth and of love; integrity; honor; years filled with good works; tender-hearted; sympathetic, worthy of confidence; never false to God, to himself or to his fellow-man, friend or foe.”

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  Of all the noble characteristics we were sent to earth to develop, it is pure, heartfelt kindness (I believe) that will be the one to exalt us.  Oh how the Savior must smile when He witnesses a kind act of one person toward another, for no other motivation than love.  Words may become meaningless phrases to be forgotten, but an unsolicited kind act sends a message to the Heavens, to Him, that we believe and are bound to Him.  For He has said that, "Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me."  With all that He does to serve us individually, how happy it must make Him, when we serve Him, individually.  May it be said of us at the end of our days, like Robert Taylor Burton, that we were "a general in the army of right, in the army of truth and of love."

The James Laird Story

"As James contemplated eating the corn, he remembered 
his wife and child who were so poorly nourished...."

The James Laird Story

James Laird was a man whose life story contains many miracles from God, both before he traveled with the Willie Handcart Company with his wife and children as well as after.  Early in his life he was spared from harm and determined that “The hand of God manifested in his behalf” and that he had work to do if God was protecting him.  Soon after he joined the Church of Jesus Christ (Scotland), he was disowned by his family.  He and his wife’s family prepared to go to Zion.  While traveling with the Willie Handcart Company, James was often found in service of others.  Although he was weak and tired, he always found the strength to help others.  One of his assignments was to help with burials, and although he never refused, one particularly tough morning he informed the captain of the company that he did not feel he could use the shovel because he was so weak.  In reply the Captain said, “Eat this (a handful of corn) and do come and help.”  As James contemplated eating the corn, he remembered his wife and child who were so poorly nourished that while nursing, the baby would often have it’s mouth streaked with blood, and rather than eat those precious kernels, he gave her the corn.  He then picked up his shovel, and went to his duty.  He later testified that he was given strength from that day forward to accomplish every task the Lord lay in his path.  James and his wife Mary left a legacy of faith and conviction despite the often-difficult circumstances they lived in.  A granddaughter later wrote, “Thanks…for giving us courage and faith…thank you for saving the family and giving us an opportunity to be raised in the Church.”

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  Throughout the Book of Mormon we are taught that many people dwindled in unbelief because of the foolish traditions of their fathers.  James Laird and his descendants (and many of the pioneers) teach us that the opposite is equally as true.  Many of those handcart pioneers made a choice at conversion to turn toward  faithfulness and obedience to God and their decision effected countless generations to follow them.  Thus we see, that faith and sacrifice not only bless our immediate lives, but also the generations to follow.  May we make our faith in God and our obedience to follow His commandments in our day an unbendable tradition in our families that our descendants might dwindle dwell in belief.

Are you a modern day pioneer?

Are you a Modern Day Pioneer?

We look forward to seeing you all at the 

Pioneer Youth Conference this Friday and Saturday, June 12-13.

Come and learn about our pioneers and how we are pioneers in our day.

The Story of Two Teenage Siblings

Although similar in age, the above image is not a picture of Joseph and Emily.  No image could be found of the siblings.

"Emily refused to leave her brother, so she promised to pull him in the handcart if they would be permitted to continue." 

Joseph and Emily Wall

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.  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.  But, 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.

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:   Joseph and Emily Wall's story is simple, but endearing.  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.  It must have been a very difficult task indeed.  I admire their courage, their love for one another, their fortitude and their faith!

Elizabeth Sermon

[We] bought a handcart, paid [our] ration money, and started across Iowa with the Martin company. Elizabeth recalled: "My heart was happy, and I rejoiced in singing the songs of Zion. My only hope and desire was to reach the Valley, where my children could be raised in the true gospel." 

Elizabeth Sermon Story

Joseph and Elizabeth Sermon were some of the most unlikely members of the Martin company, and their story is one of the most compelling. Elizabeth joined the Church in 1852 and wanted her family to gather to Zion, even though it meant leaving their comfortable home near London. Joseph did not join the Church and did not want to leave. Nevertheless, seeing that Elizabeth was determined to emigrate, and not wanting her to go alone, Joseph reluctantly agreed to accompany her. Their four youngest children, ages 3 through 8, went with them. Their oldest son remained in England with a grandparent to finish an apprenticeship. "I never saw him again," Elizabeth later wrote.

The Sermons sold their home and went to Liverpool. They left England three months earlier than most members of the Martin company, sailing on the Caravan in February Joseph and Elizabeth Sermon Family. After arriving in New York on March 27, the Sermon family traveled to Iowa City. Because they planned to be part of an independent wagon company, they bought a wagon and team. However, as Elizabeth recalled, "after much discussion and counsel from the Elders, we were convinced (at least I was) that it was God's will that the [wagon] be sold and we buy handcarts so that more Saints could make the journey to Zion."The Sermon family was in Iowa City at least a month before the first handcart emigrants. If they had joined any of the first three companies, they probably would have experienced minimal troubles. But Joseph Sermon was "full of misgivings" about pulling a handcart, feeling that it was demeaning, so he decided not to go any farther. As a result, his family remained in Iowa City for several weeks as each of the handcart companies was organized and then departed. Eventually, knowing that the Martin company provided the last opportunity to finish their journey that season, Elizabeth persuaded Joseph to proceed. "I was faithful, and willing to draw a handcart," Elizabeth wrote. "I hungered for the gospel of Christ."  They bought a handcart, paid their ration money, and started across Iowa with the Martin company. Elizabeth recalled: "My heart was happy, and I rejoiced in singing the songs of Zion. My only hope and desire was to reach the Valley, where my children could be raised in the true gospel." "I think I pulled first rate for a new beginner in shafts and harness," Elizabeth Sermon wrote. Not only did she have to pull the handcart but she continued to have to pull along her husband's attitude. When the extra flour was put in the carts at Florence, the children had to walk, which greatly annoyed Joseph and even caused Elizabeth to wonder. She did not murmur, though, knowing it would only increase her husband's complaints. "I told you how it would be," he said many times.  During the journey across Nebraska, Joseph's health began to fail. "His heart was almost broken," Elizabeth wrote, and "he would say, 'What have you brought us to, you, yourself in the shafts, drawing like a beast of burden, your children hungry and almost naked, myself will soon be gone, and . . . what will become of you and the children?  You will find out how true all I have told you is, when it is too late.'" His words finally began to affect Elizabeth. She began to think about how hungry her family was, a hunger made even more acute by looking all day at the bag of flour in the handcart. She was troubled that her children had to walk while others were riding. Feeling that her first duty was to look after her family, she stopped the cart at noon that day, threw the bag of flour on the ground, and told Captain Martin she would not carry it any farther unless her family could have some. The family's trials continued to worsen, and Elizabeth continued to bear most of the burden. For a while, when her eight-year-old son and husband were ill, she pulled both of them, her two youngest sons, and the family's belongings, assisted only by a young man and later a young woman. Despite this physical burden, the lack of support from her husband, and other challenges, Elizabeth maintained her hopes of a better life in Zion. 

"Continuing her recollections of the journey in a letter to her children, Elizabeth wrote: "It was after wading a very wide river [that] the freezing commenced. We had no wood, only sagebrush. I went out and cut the sage to keep the fire all night, covering you all with your feet to the fire and [your] heads covered over, and then I went out and cut more sagebrush and kept the fire as well as I could—my clothes frozen stiff like starched clothing. Well, we got through that night. Next day we moved on our way again, painful and slow..."  While camped out awaiting rescue at Martin's Cove, Joseph would finally die. After her husband died, Elizabeth Sermon had much to do to care for her four children. Each night she would clear away the snow with a tin plate, gather wood, make a fire, carry her children to the fire, and make their beds. "We went to bed without supper," she wrote, "so that we could have more for breakfast. I found it some help to toast the rawhide on the coals and chew it. It kind of kept the terrible hunger away."Three of Elizabeth's children had severely frostbitten feet. What Elizabeth had to do for those children was unimaginable for a loving mother: "I had to take a portion of poor Robert's feet off, which pierced my very soul...At last the old handcart was laid by without a regret; we got to the wagons, were taken in, and some days we rode all day and got a little more food.  A severe storm came up. . . . My eldest boy John's feet decaying, my boys both of them losing their limbs, their father dead, my own feet very painful, I thought, 'Why can't I die?' My first thought of death."  Another setback occurred when Elizabeth arrived in Salt Lake City. She recalled that when people in the city came to take the handcart Saints into their homes, she was left until almost the last: "My case was deplorable; I don't wonder no one wanted [us]. Finally, I saw a young man from my own country passing. I had been raised in childhood with him. I knew him, but he did not know me. How could he? I looked 70 years old, worn out, shriveled, feet frozen, could not walk. My children, too, could not. Who would want us? Oh, I was crushed, but I called to him. He could not believe it was me, but he got a team and sent us to his own home. The Bishop came and provided for our wants—put my feet in tar, which I believe saved them, for the next morning I could move my toes."Soon after Elizabeth arrived in Utah, her brother learned where she was and took her to his home in Farmington. Elizabeth later wrote of this time, "Here we met with kind friends—Bishop Hess and many, many others, and I am ever grateful for their kindness to me and my children in my great trouble." 

Her feelings are perhaps most clearly indicated in the lengthy letter she wrote to her children in 1892: "My faith [is] still in my Father in Heaven. I have never lost faith in Him. It is as sweet today to trust in Him, and my prayers are that I may always trust Him. He is a Friend and has never failed me when asked. You may perhaps say, 'Why not have asked Him to save you then, when you needed it?' I did, and He spared me through many trials to my family." 

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  Elizabeth Sermon's testimony that God had never failed her did not depend on having her trials removed. She made this declaration of faith despite a lifelong regret over her first husband's death and her sons being "made cripples" by the handcart trek. She also made her declaration despite the difficulties she encountered in the Zion she had sacrificed so much to come to. She is a great example of remaining faithful through difficult trials. I love that she expressed so clearly that while she HAD prayed to be saved, she willingly accepted the "but if not..." and understood that in retrospect she had been spared in many ways, just not always the ways she had hoped to be saved.

Handcarts Video (from "Remember the Journey")

What are you carrying in your handcart?

Amy Loader Story

"Amy could have become paralyzed by grief or bitter with resentment....Instead, she led and cheered even her adult daughters through times of starvation and frozen stupor."

Amy Loader Story

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.

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  As we look at Amy Loaders story, as with many of the pioneer stories, there is a great lesson in cheerful obedience.  It is a natural tendency for one to murmur when he or she is in the midst of suffering through a trial.  Oh then, how much more remarkable is the strength of the person who does not murmur and complain, but instead, chooses words of encouragement that lift others and give hope.  The pioneers not only provide us with a grand example of faith, but the manner in which they faithfully endured their suffering gives us an attitude to strive for as we face our trials.  

Thomas Dobson Story

"...Stand up and sing the handcart song and I promise you

in the name of Israel’s God your feet shall be made whole."

Thomas Dobson Story
Age 18, from Preston, England, Martin Company

“I wore out my shoes on the way,” said Tom Dobson, “and had to make a good many miles of it on foot. My feet froze and it was no small task hobbling over the rough roads wheeling a handcart. Brother Eph[raim] Hanks promised me the first pair of shoes that came to camp. But my feet had swollen so that nothing would fit them. “Tommy,” says Eph, “its too bad; but there’s no shoes for you; and the best I can do is to wrap you up in this piece of cotton. Now, I tell you what you do.  Stand up and sing the handcart song and I promise you in the name of Israel’s God your feet shall be made whole.”

That night I was wakened by a sound of fiddling. A couple in our company got married and the camp was celebrating with a dance. I hobbled out to the fire and stood there listening to the music. “Tommy” said one of the brethren in a joke, why don’t you get up there and give us a jig.” Now, I come from Lancashire, and maybe you know what that place is for dancing. I’d known how to clog dance ever since I could remember and when that man told me to dance I got out there and danced as I never had before. That was the last of my lame feet.”

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  This is a great story that brings a smile to my face.  I love to hear about the miracles; those little moments that gave them hope and strengthened their faith in such a difficult time.  Likewise, may we recognize the miracles in our lives and may they give us hope and strengthen our faith in our difficult times.  Our God is indeed a God of miracles and strength and the foundation of every hope.  

Peter McBride Story

The tent was jerked loose from the snow, uncovering Peter. “I picked myself up,” 
he later wrote, “and came out quite alive, to their surprise.” 

The Peter McBride Story

Six-year-old Peter McBride was the youngest son of Robert and Margaret McBride. He had two older brothers and two sisters. His father had died after the last crossing of the Platte River, on a night when as many as 13 people died after being battered by the first winter storm.  "While my sister was preparing our little bit of breakfast, I went to look for Father.  At last, I found him under a wagon with snow all over him.  He was stiff and dead."  Peter cried and cried.  Fatherless, the McBride family pushed on.

While the Martin company was in Martin’s Cove, Peter and other children received only two ounces of flour a day. In the account Peter later wrote of those days, he said it was hard to forget the hunger when everyone was on starvation rations. One day someone gave him a bone from a dead ox. He cut off the skin and began roasting the bone in the fire, but some older boys took it away. Left with only the skin, he boiled it, drank the soup, and ate the skin. “It was a good supper,” he recalled.

The winds were ferocious the first night in the cove, flattening many tents, including the McBrides’ tent. Everyone but Peter crawled out and found other places to bed down for the night. Peter remained in the tent and later said he “slept warm all night.” The snow on top of the collapsed tent may have insulated him from the colder air. In the morning he heard someone ask, “How many are dead in this tent?” His older sister said, “Well, my little brother must be frozen to death in that tent.” The tent was jerked loose from the snow, uncovering Peter. “I picked myself up,” he later wrote, “and came out quite alive, to their surprise.” 

Peter later became a talented musician, and he shared this talent throughout his life. 

He also served in a bishopric in Arizona for 20 years.

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  When I read stories of young children who survived and took on great "adult-like" responsibilities to help their families survive, I am humbled by their courage and love that they demonstrated at such a young age.  It becomes evident to me that God truly does qualify and make those who follow Him equal to the task that is before them.  The fact that the young kids of the Willie and Martin Companies could do what they did is screaming evidence that God exists and has power to enable a dedicated follower to accomplish seemingly impossible things.  If God can do what He did with a child, I wonder what He could do with me?

Reviewing the Lessons of the Past

A Story of True Love

"With a tear in his eye, [President Faust] said it had to be one of the great love stories 
of the western migration."

The Sarah Franks and George Padley Story

Sarah joined the Church in April 1848, when she was 16. Because her parents objected, she had to leave home. She began working in a lace factory, saving money to emigrate. When her father died in 1853, she returned to her family. Eventually Sarah helped bring her mother and sisters into the Church, though she was the only member of her family to emigrate in 1856.

Sarah Franks and George Padley were engaged to be married when they left England. Four other couples who were emigrating together had gotten married during the voyage on the Horizon. Sarah Franks and George Padley, however, were waiting to be married in Salt Lake City so they could be sealed. By the time they got to Martin's Cove, both were failing due to hunger and exposure. Sarah was taken into one of the sick wagons. George tried to care for her, but his strength waned. According to one account, he had "overexerted himself in trying to help other members of the handcart company. He had gotten wet and chilled from the winter wind." Suffering from a combination of pneumonia and hypothermia, he died in the cove. Sarah mourned not only the loss of her fiancé but also the inevitable work of the wolves on his body. Her family history relates: "Sarah took her long-fringed shawl from her almost freezing body and had the brethren wrap her sweetheart's body in it. She couldn't bear to think of his being buried with nothing to protect him." Some men then reportedly placed George's body in a tree to protect it from the wolves.

During one of President James E. Faust's visits to Martin's Cove, President Kim W. McKinnon of the Riverton Wyoming Stake told the story of Sarah Franks and George Padley. President Faust"was very moved by the story. With a tear in his eye he said it had to be one of the great love stories of the western migration."

For Sarah Franks, the future seemed desolate without George. Their dream of raising a family together in Zion was over. Already close to death herself, with no family to look after her, with her hopes disappointed, she could have easily lost the will to live. Nevertheless, she persevered and would yet live a life of fulfillment.

Sarah survived the journey but had no relatives or friends to meet her and nurse her back to health. What followed is a powerful example of persevering and making the most of life when fervent hopes are disappointed. One of the wives of Thomas Mackay invited Sarah to come and live in their home. After a few months, in April 1857, Sarah married Thomas Mackay as his third wife. Years later when Sarah was a widow, one of her granddaughters who knew of her heartbreak at Martin's Cove asked if she had really loved Thomas Mackay. Implied in the question may have been a thought that the marriage was only for expedience. But Sarah replied, "Yes, he was a good man. He was good to us." Sarah and Thomas Mackay had five sons and four daughters. In a way Sarah never had imagined, she was able to raise a family in Zion. Thomas Mackay died in 1880 when Sarah was 47 and their youngest child was 6. Sarah lived 31 years as a widow, dying in 1911 at age 78. During her last years, she lived with one of her daughters in Murray. "She was especially admired and loved for her thoughtfulness of little children," wrote one of her descendants. "She always had a surprise awaiting them when they called to see her. [She] would always bring us a little gift, such as a pretty little china cup and saucer, a little toy, or a box of lovely assorted cookies. . . . She was dearly loved by all."

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  What an example of perseverance. Like many of the handcart pioneers she sacrificed everything (leaving family and the familiarity of home) to come to Zion. She endured incredible heartbreak and had her hopes of marriage and family taken away, yet she continued on in faith.

The difficulties which come to us present us with the real test of our ability to endure. A fundamental question remains to be answered by each of us: Shall I falter, or shall I finish?...

Only the Master knows the depths of our trials, our pain, and our suffering. He alone offers us eternal peace in times of adversity...Whether it is the best of times or the worst of times, He is with us. 

James and Joseph Kirkwook

On October 23, the Kirkwoods made the 15-mile journey up Rocky Ridge in a storm. This 15 mile journey took up to 27 hours for some to complete....James and Joseph became separated from their mother and fell behind.

James and Joseph Kirkwood

James and his family were among the first converts in Scotland in 1840. Their home was always open to the missionaries. James’s father and two sisters had died in 1852, but his determined mother gathered her four sons and set her sights on Zion. Margaret sold precious possessions, including her beautiful handwork to help with finances. Margaret’s prominent family were fabric designers who had disowned Margaret for joining the Church.

Robert (age 21) and his mother pulled Thomas (age 19) in the handcart as Thomas was crippled and could not walk. James was primarily responsible for his younger brother, Joseph Smith Kirkwood (age 4). 

On October 23, the Kirkwoods made the 15-mile journey up Rocky Ridge in a storm. This 15 mile journey took up to 27 hours for some to complete. Margaret had one eye freeze and was blind in that eye the rest of her life. James and Joseph became separated from their mother and fell behind. Margaret waited for her sons by a small fire until late that night. When the pair finally arrived at the campfire that night, James set his brother down, whom he had carried most of the way up Rocky Ridge and then died from exhaustion and exposure, literally giving his life for his brother. With determination, he had faithfully carried out his task and saved his brother.

The biography of Joseph by his daughter, Mary, states: “Next morning when arriving in camp the brother James fell dead due to starvation and cold. He was buried on the banks of the Sweetwater in a grave with twelve others.”

James' story is a fairly familiar and commonly told story about Willie Company. But his story is oft repeated for great reasons. It is a beautiful example of love and devotion for ones own family. We ache for his mother when we think of what she must have been feeling. I cannot imagine her pulling her handcart with only her 21 year old son to help and the added weight of her 19 year old son in the handcart. Then to lose her two younger sons in the blizzard and wait for their arrival. How her heart must have warmed to see her 11 year old James carrying his 4 year old brother on his back into camp. And then her sadness when James passed away.

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  Elder M. Russel Ballard said this:  "We cannot begin to understand the journeys made by those who laid the foundation of this dispensation until we understand their spiritual underpinnings. Once we make that connection, however, we will begin to see how their journeys parallel our own. There are lessons for us in every footstep they took–lessons of love, courage, commitment, devotion, endurance, and, most of all, faith. Handcarts were heavily laden with faith–faith in God, faith in the restoration of His Church through the Prophet Joseph Smith, and faith that God knew where they were going and that He would see them through. We all face rocky ridges, with the wind in our face and winter coming on too soon. Always there is a Devil’s Gate, which will swing open to lure us in. Occasionally we reach the top of one summit in life, as the pioneers did, only to see more mountain peaks ahead, higher and more challenging than the one we have just traversed. 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. We will learn, as did our pioneer ancestors, that it is only in faith–real faith, whole souled, tested and tried–that we will find safety and confidence as we walk our own perilous pathways through life. We are all bound together–19th and 20th century pioneers and more–in our great journey to follow the Lord Jesus Christ and to allow His atoning sacrifice to work its miracle in our lives. While we all can appreciate the footsteps of faith walked by Joseph Smith and his followers from Palmyra to Carthage Jail and across the Great Plains, we should ever stand in reverential awe as we contemplate the path trod by the Master. His faithful footsteps to Gethsemane and to Calvary rescued all of us and opened the way for us to return to our heavenly home. Joy will fill our hearts when we fully come to know the eternal significance of the greatest rescue–the rescue of the family of God by the Lord Jesus Christ. For it is through Him that we have promise of eternal life. Our faith in the Lord Jesus Christ is the source of spiritual power that will give you and me the assurance that we have nothing to fear from the Journey."

Mary Barton's Story

"One day while we were camped an Indian came to me and asked me to give him my shawl 
which I had on my shoulders. I told him it was all I had to keep me from freezing to death. 
He turned and walked away."

Mary Barton's Story

Born: 13 Jan 1842 in Southport, Lancashire, England

Mary was the daughter of William and Jeannette Carr Barton, the youngest of seven children. Mary’s mother died shortly after her birth. William Barton was a plasterer and paperhanger by trade and made a fairly good living. Mary’s older sisters helped to raise her until her father remarried. Mary later wrote: “At the age of six I went to school but had to stop when I reached my tenth birthday. At twelve I went out to work for my living, and when fourteen years old I left England to come to Utah for the Gospel sake.”

Mary sailed from England in May of 1856 aboard the Horizon with her father, William (47), step-mother, Mary Ann (33), and step-sisters, Francis (3), and Elizabeth (1). Her older siblings apparently did not join the Church as they are reported to have persecuted the rest of the family for so doing. Even after coming to America, Mary was saddened many times by the unkind things said to her in letters from her relatives in England. Mary recorded many interesting things about her journey. She wrote, "One day while on the ship, I was up in the cooking room cooking dinner. It was so crowded there was hardly standing room. The people were all cooking their dinner, one man was boiling soup in a milk can. When he took the soup from the stove, he lifted it over my head in order to carry it through the crowd. While doing so somebody knocked him and it fell out of his hand on my back. My father stood outside waiting for me to come with the dinner. I ran out to him and he said, ‘Come downstairs and let’s get some oil.’ So we ran down the steps and got one of the Elders to administer to me. It was better in a few minutes, the pain had entirely gone and I never felt any more of it. Some of the soup went on the hands of the man who had spilled it on me. He ran and put his hands in a bucket of cold water and wasn’t administered to. He, not being a convert, wouldn’t hear to having the Elders pray for him. His hands were blistered and they didn’t get better until two weeks."

The Martin Company arrived by train in Cleveland, Ohio, amidst parades and fireworks. They stayed in a large warehouse overnight, during which time there was a great rainstorm. They were also pestered by a mob with stones and bats all night. Although Mary did not write about it, her baby sister, Elizabeth, died.... Mary wrote: "We had been five weeks on the sea when we landed in Boston. We were very glad to walk on land again. We left Boston for Iowa and were eight days on the train. When we arrived in Iowa, we had three miles to walk to the camp grounds. It rained all the way, and we were soaking wet when we reached camp that night...

We had to stay on the camp grounds five weeks waiting for the handcarts to be made. When everything was ready we started. Traveling through Ohio and Council Bluffs (Nebraska), we had to cross the Missouri River which was about a mile from Florence. … So many of our company took sick that we had to camp at Florence for two weeks. Then we started on a journey of [one thousand] miles across the plains. The people began to get sick and died from drinking muddy water. We had to drink pools of rain water most of the time. While traveling, one of the wagons split and let flour out. The Indians who were nearly starved to death came along behind picking it up and eating it, dirt and all. One day while we were camped an Indian came to me and asked me to give him my shawl which I had on my shoulders. I told him it was all I had to keep me from freezing to death. He turned and walked away.

While crossing Nebraska, both William and Francis became very ill, leaving only Mary Ann and Mary to pull the handcart. Francis rode in the cart, and William hung onto the back for support as he plodded forward. Mary's historical sketch relates her father's decline: "After dragging on the rear of the handcart for days and nights, one night came when he could only creep. A captain came along and gave him a push with his foot, telling him to get up, not to give up, and to be brave. That night, late in September... [father] died."

It was a pathetic scene in the Bartons' tent that night near Chimney Rock, Nebraska, 472 miles from Florence. Mary was doing her best to care for her father as he was dying. Nearby her stepmother was caring for little Francis, who also lay near death. How alone Mary must have felt on that vast prairie. Her mother had died when Mary was a baby, her father was dying beside her, her six older siblings had turned against her when she joined the Church, and she was far from home with so much unknown still ahead. Before the journey's end, the other three men in her tent would die. More trials were to come for this grieving young girl, her stepmother, and her only little sister.”

After reaching Devil’s Gate, the company was moved to a cove in the nearby mountain for five days. Mary wrote: "After pitching our tents we lay down on the ground to get some sleep and rest. In the night the tents all blew over. It was all ice and snow where I was laying, and when the tents blew off I didn’t wake up I was so tired. One man (Mary Barton – Page 2) came and looked at me. He called some more men over saying, “I wonder if she is dead?” He patted me on the head and just then I opened my eyes. He jumped back. I tried to raise my head but found that my hair was frozen to the ground. They chopped the ice all around my hair, and I got up and went over to the fire and melted the large pieces of ice that were clinging to my hair. The men laughed to think that I could lie there all night with my hair frozen in the ice, but were very glad that I wasn’t dead. This same night the handcarts all blew away, and some of us had to walk until we met some other wagons. Mrs. Unthanks [Ellen Pucell, then age 9, later married William Unthank] got her feet frozen and had to have them taken off, but when we met more wagons we could all ride. There were four men in our tent, and all of them died."

Mary reached the Valley on November 30, 1856. The family was taken first to the tithing yard to receive food and supplies. Mary first stayed with a King family and then with the Allen family in Spanish Fork. Mary married John Allen the next spring. She became the mother of twelve children, seven girls and five boys.

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  Mary's story is like so many of the pioneers, in that she must have felt so alone. Many pioneers left family behind, never to see them again, and others, while they may have begun their journey with their family, lost their loved ones along the way.  But while they may have felt alone, they were surrounded by their brothers and sisters in the gospel, and they had the love of the Savior to comfort them.  They are such stalwart examples to us of how to find peace in troubling circumstances. 

Elder Jeffery R. Holland gave at a fireside at BYU in which he said, "As we think on these things, does it strike us that spiritual experience, revelatory experience, sacred experience can come to every one of us in all the many and varied stages and circumstances of our lives if we want it, if we hold on and pray on, and if we keep our faith strong through our difficulties? ...tonight’s message is that when you have to, you can have sacred, revelatory, profoundly instructive experience with the Lord in any situation you are in. Indeed, let me say that even a little stronger: You can have sacred, revelatory, profoundly instructive experience with the Lord in the most miserable experiences of your life—in the worst settings, while enduring the most painful injustices, when facing the most insurmountable odds and opposition you have ever faced...every experience can become a redemptive experience if we remain bonded to our Father in Heaven through that difficulty. These difficult lessons teach us that man’s extremity is God’s opportunity, and if we will be humble and faithful, if we will be believing and not curse God for our problems, He can turn the unfair and inhumane and debilitating prisons of our lives into temples—or at least into a circumstance that can bring comfort and revelation, divine companionship and peace."

The Margery Smith Family

One day, perhaps when they crossed Rocky Ridge, Margery carried six-year-old Alexander on her back for 15 miles because the snow was too deep for him to walk.

The Margery Smith Family

Margery Smith was a 51-year-old widow from Dundee, Scotland, who was emigrating with five children and a close friend of the family, Euphemia Mitchell. Margery’s first husband had been lost at sea, and her second husband had died in 1850. Neither of them had joined the Church.
Margery’s oldest son, Robert Bain, had emigrated in 1854, working as a cook on a ship for his passage and then driving an ox team across the plains. Soon after arriving in Salt Lake City, he went to Lehi, where he farmed as a sharecropper. In a letter to his mother, Robert encouraged the rest of the family to emigrate. “He says he is trying to raise as much [money] as he can for our comfort,” Margery told her other children. “He bids us exert ourselves to emigrate, next season, and says he will pray while we work.”
Betsey and the other girls laughed at that, saying Robert had the easier job. They would soon learn that in addition to praying for them, he would work on their behalf in ways they never imagined would be necessary.

Yearning to join the Saints in Zion, Margery and her daughters began working and saving to emigrate. “The spirit of gathering to Zion was strong upon us,” Betsey wrote, “and we worked at our looms by day, our fancy work by night, and saved the proceeds. By this means, we gathered enough in six months to pay our passage across the sea; and in many ways we realized that God helps those who help themselves.”
Betsey recalled that when the family told their Uncle Thomas good-bye, “he went white to the lips. He called mother a fanatic. He prophesied mother would die on the plains."

In Iowa City, 13-year-old Betsey Smith came down with scarlet fever. Unable to open her eyes as she lay sick in camp, she overheard a conversation that made her fear for her life. "I am sorry she is dying,” Betsey heard a woman say. Betsey knew that a baby had just died, and four other children had also passed away while the Willie company was in Iowa City preparing for the handcart journey. “Another death in camp soon,” the woman continued. Hearing this, Betsey thought her own death was inevitable and began to cry.
Betsey’s mother, Margery, soon brought her daughter some broth. Seeing Betsey’s tears, she asked, “Are you worse?”
“Mother, they think I am dying,” Betsey answered. “I want to live and go to the Valley.”  Betsey’s mother acted decisively and with faith. “My dear mother ... went and brought the elders,” Betsey later wrote. “[They] administered to me and rebuked the disease, commanding it to leave both me and the camp. My recovery was rapid. I was able to travel.”

Betsey had recovered sufficiently from her illness to help pull the cart and care for her six-year-old brother, Alexander. Some days they walked more than 20 miles, and when Alexander’s legs got weary, Betsey kept him going by “taking his hand to encourage him, and by telling him stories of the future and the good things in store for us.”
“While fair weather and full rations lasted, we were all right,” Betsey wrote. But twice in October the Willie company had to reduce their daily flour rations, trying to conserve their dwindling provisions until resupply wagons from Salt Lake City could reach them. On October 19 they ate the last of their flour, still nearly 300 miles short of their destination. Their only remaining food was a one-day supply of crackers. Seven people had died during the previous week, and many others were at the point of collapse. If help didn’t come soon, they would all perish.

When the Willie company broke camp on October 19, they didn’t know that their predicament would soon become even worse. Within an hour they were hit by the first snowstorm. Howling winds blew the snow in fitful gusts, forcing them to stop for a time. Then, with hope fading by the hour, they finally found reason to renew their courage. Four men rode up from the west, two on horseback and two in a light wagon. “Such a shout as was raised in camp I never before heard,” wrote Joseph Elder. Five days earlier, these men had hurried ahead as an express from the rescue company. Betsey recalled that one of them, Joseph Young, asked her, “Have you any provisions?”
“All gone but some crackers,” Betsey replied.
“Well, cheer up,” Joseph said. “Help is coming!”
Betsey turned to her sister Jane and asked, “What ailed that man? I saw him wiping his eyes.”
“It may be that he is sorry for us,” Jane said. “Let us hurry to camp and hear him speak.”
Joseph Young and Cyrus Wheelock delivered the cheering news that many wagons loaded with supplies were not far behind them. Despite the good news they bore, both men were overcome with emotion. Euphemia Mitchell recalled that Cyrus Wheelock “said how he never expected to see brethren and sisters in such a condition as we were. Tears ran down his cheeks as he spoke to us and encouraged us.”
The rescue wagons arrived two days later, and Betsey said the famished people rejoiced and “thanked the Lord in prayer.” Several men and six wagons stayed with the Willie company. The rest hurried east to search for the Martin company.
Margery Smith and her family had to pull their handcart another 10 days through the snow. One day, perhaps when they crossed Rocky Ridge, Margery carried six-year-old Alexander on her back for 15 miles because the snow was too deep for him to walk. Betsey recalled that through all these trials, “we never forgot to pray, and we sang ‘Come, Come, Ye Saints’ with great zeal and fervor. We realized that we needed the help of God to see us through.”

Margery became very sick, and Betsey was burdened with worry. “Many are dying; mother may die, and what a dark world it would be without our dear mother!” she thought. While gathering sagebrush for a fire, Betsey couldn’t keep from crying. Margery saw her tears and asked what was the matter. When Betsey explained, her mother said, “Do not feel like that; pray for me. I have been out yonder in the snow praying to the Lord to spare our lives, that we might get through to the Valley.”

On October 30 the Willie company reached the Green River crossing, still 169 miles from the Salt Lake Valley. As she had done from Iowa City, that day Betsey led young Alexander by the hand and encouraged him forward with stories about their future. With the innocence and impatience of a six-year-old, Alex said, “When we get to that creek, I wish we could see our brother Rob”—the brother who had encouraged them to emigrate and had promised to pray for them.
Betsey knew how unlikely that was. Nevertheless, she said, “Come along, maybe we will, when we get to the top of the bank.” At the top they looked down and saw a wagon with just one yoke of oxen. “We had never seen the like before,” Betsey said, since most wagons had two or three yokes of oxen. They waited at the summit, watching the wagon advance until it came beside them. The driver stared at them briefly and then yelled for his oxen to stop. “It was then we knew him,” Betsey wrote. “He jumped off the wagon and caught his sisters in his arms as they came up with the cart. How we all wept with joy! ... Little Alex climbed in to the wagon as happy as a prince, instead of a poor, tired child.”

This joyful, improbable reunion was not yet complete. Robert asked where his mother and sister Mary were. “They are behind somewhere, Robby,” Betsey answered. Margery was still sick, and during her stops to rest, she was so weak that she had to lie down. Having seen others go to sleep this way and never awaken, Mary stayed with her mother to help her keep going. When Mary saw the wagon coming, she told her mother to get up and look.
“Never mind, Mary; don’t bother me; I am so tired,” Margery said.
“Well, mother, the man is running this way,” Mary replied. “It surely is Robert.”
“Oh, no, Mary; that would be too good to be true!” Margery answered.
But it was indeed true. Describing the reunion with his mother, Robert wrote:
I ... drove on to find Mother laying in the sagebrush nearly gone. I gathered her up in my arms and got her in the wagon. My heart overflowed with love and gratitude to God. My mother said to me, “I couldn’t be more happy and thankful to see you than if I were to be in the highest kingdom in heaven.” [God] had preserved them ... in the midst of death, and I had been able to find them. The bread and butter [in my wagon] was a sweet morsel to them. Mother gained in health every day.

Robert Bain had prayed for his family, as promised. And he had worked for them, coming to their rescue. But the work was not easy or convenient. While his family was traveling across the plains, Robert was suffering from mountain fever in Lehi. For four weeks he had to be waited on. Brigham Young’s call for rescuers came when Robert was just beginning to recover. He borrowed a yoke of oxen and a wagon from Lorenzo Hatch, who filled the wagon with supplies, and set out to find his family. “I was so weak they had to lift me into the wagon [and] put the whip in my hand,” Robert recalled. He gradually got stronger as he made his way east. Perhaps in part due to Robert’s efforts, everyone in Margery Smith’s family survived, as did their friend Euphemia Mitchell, who soon married Robert.
Throughout the rest of her long life, Betsey chose not to focus on the tribulations of the handcart journey. She chose not to second-guess, murmur, or complain. Instead she wrote, “I will not dwell on the hardships we endured, nor the hunger and cold, but I like to tell of the goodness of God unto us.”

Betsey concluded her narrative by explaining why she wrote it. Her purpose went far beyond telling a good story. Rather, she wrote it “for the benefit of the youth of Zion who may read this.” In her final words, she reinforced what she hoped the youth of Zion would learn from her experience: “I bear testimony that I know God hears and answers prayers, and the Lord will help those who help themselves.”

THOUGHT FROM THE STAKE:  Some of the greatest rescues ever made will be within our own families.  In many cases the reach of one family member to another is a long arduous journey that may span years and years.  But, oh how sweet the reunion of souls when the rescuer and the rescued "see" each other for the very first time.  May we never give up in our efforts to reach and rescue those we love and have faith that God loves them, knows them and is working to preserve their spiritual lives as they struggle and wander, until the time when a rescue can be made.