Or find a quote from an ancestor's journal being used as a sign marker along the historic "Trail of Hope"?
(One of the sign markers lining the street where thousands of Nauvoo residents traveled as they left Nauvoo in February 1846, quote by my 4th-great grandmother. They had to cross the Mississippi river and head west to escape mob persecution)
How many people get to discover the grave site where their 4th-great grandmother's two small children are buried--and then read her amazing story about how she became so confident in their well-being after death that she didn't shed a tear at their passing?
These experiences were some of the highlights of our trip to Nauvoo, Illinois last weekend. It was my third time visiting the historic town and the first time our kids can remember going. We were hoping it would be a trip that would help them connect with their ancestors, strengthen their faith, and have fun as a family. I think we accomplished all three!
(Replica of one of the sunstones that adorned the origional Nauvoo Temple. The Church members in Nauvoo were asked to give 1 out of 10 days to work on the temple construction. The temple has since been reconstructed and is now a dedicated, working LDS temple. It is gorgeous!)
We belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and it's a big part of our lives. (Okay, so that's probably an understatement. It's basically who we are. It's a VERY big part of our lives.) The Church was restored in 1830 and its members grew quickly. Now Church membership is in the realm of 16 million worldwide! Nauvoo is important because the growing body of church members spent six years there (1839-1846), building a city and a beautiful temple. By 1844, Nauvoo's population had risen to 12,000, rivaling the size of Chicago!
If you want a quick and fun overview of Church history, check out this video. (Takes me back to my old high school seminary days!)
But back to Nauvoo. By 1846, prejudice and suspicion led to mobbings and the government mandated a mass exodus of Mormons from the state of Illinois. Church members then began a difficult journey west by covered wagon or handcart. A good handful of my direct ancestors were part of that exodus. I was touched to read stories of their perseverance and faith. They were such good, kindly people! Why did they have to be so mistreated? I think I understand now why our Church has recently encouraged its members to extend aid to refugees... It is part of our own history.
During the last hour of our drive to Nauvoo, I pulled out the big binder my mom has filled with family history "pioneer" stories. I couldn't help but cry as I read aloud the history of my 5th-great grandmother, Ann Jewell Rowley. She joined the church In England, along with her husband and seven children. Her husband soon passed away, and she and the children worked for seven years before they had saved enough to sail to America and join the saints out west. They joined the Willie Handcart Company--a company infamous for the late start they got and the consequent perilous journey they endured. Here are some excerpts from Ann's account of her journey:
"Many Saints were migrating to Zion, which had been established in what is now known as 'Utah.' So anxious were we all to join the Saints, that we were willing to accept any kind of transportation, to make the trip. Just at this time, the 'Handcart Method' had been adopted and we were grateful for even this mode of transportation to travel... everything that even hinted of being a luxury, must be eliminated. There were many keepsakes that I wanted to take, but couldn't. But there was one thing I didn't consider a luxury and that was my feather-bed. I had hung onto that beloved item from the time of the auction in England and now clearly there was no room for it. It wouldn't be bad to walk 1,300 miles if one had a feather-bed to sleep on at night, but no matter how I folded it, it was too bulky. But a feather-bed is a feather-bed, and when it came to choosing between Zion and a feather-bed, well it was a little too late to turn my back on Zion, so I ripped it open and emptied the feathers on the ground and used the tic to cover the supplies on the handcart. We left Iowa City under the direction of Captain James C. Willie and Millen Atwood...
"We started out in great spirits, grateful at last that we were on the last lap of our journey..." Soon the first misfortune hit the company: a large herd of buffalo stampeded through the camp and 30 of their best oxen were lost. Much of the food supplies had to be transferred from the ox-carts onto the handcarts, causing many to break down, for they weren't designed to carry such a load."
Mary continues, "It hurt me to see my children go hungry. I watched as they cut the loose rawhide from the cart wheels, roast off the hair and chew the hide. There came a time , when there seemed to be no food at all. Some of the men left to hunt buffalo. Night was coming and there was no food for the evening meal. I asked God's help as I always did. I got on my knees, remembering two hard sea biscuits that were still in my trunk. They had been left over from the sea voyage. They were not large, and were so hard they couldn't be broken. Surely. that was not enough to feed 8 people, but 5 loaves and 2 fishes were not enough to feed 5,000 people either, but through a miracle, Jesus had done it. So, with God's help, nothing is impossible. I found the biscuits and put them in a dutch oven and covered them with water and asked for God's blessing. Then I put the lid on the pan and set it on the coals. When I took off the lid a little later, I found the pan filled with food. I kneeled with my family and thanked God for his goodness. That night my family had sufficient food. The men returned with buffalo meat, and what wasn't eaten right away by the Saints, was dried into jerky."
"The weather became cooler and at times the company was delayed because of the constant repair of the handcarts. We encountered many storms on the way and the way seemed long indeed. The last time we crossed the Platte River, Samuel's clothes were soaked. by the time he got to camp it was sundown and his clothes were frozen so stiff he could barely move. I wrapped a blanket around him and he stood by the fire, while I dried his clothing. Samuel celebrated his 14th birthday somewhere in the vicinity of Chimney Rock. He celebrated by pulling the handcart with John all day. From here on, the country became hilly and hard to travel. The company dragged on. Provisions were getting lower and the people weaker day by day. Anything that has no immediate use, was discarded on the way. I watched with alarm, my stepdaughter Eliza, grow weaker each day. She was never very strong. I had always devoted a lot of love and care to her, but she passed away one day and was buried off to the side of the trail. Her long journey was at an end, but ours had a long way yet to go.
"John being the oldest boy, had born the brunt of the hard work. I was grateful for my faith in God, for it was only through this faith, that I was able to carry on at all. I confess, it seemed at times, the Lord had deserted us. I watched John, so cold, drowsy and sick, want to lie down in his tracks, never to rise again. I had to stand helplessly while Captain Willie whipped him, to make him go on. Gladly, I would have taken the whipping myself. In traveling at night, in the frost of that altitude, Thomas' right hand froze while he was pushing on the back on the cart and when we stopped at night and his hand got warm, it swelled up, as Samuel said, 'like a toad.' John could finally go no farther and I felt my heart would break as I saw him laying beside the trail, waiting for the sick wagon. By the time he was picked up, his body was frozen in two places. That night, 12 people died and the next morning, 3 people joined them.
"I always thought, I shall be the happiest person, if I could reach Zion, with all my children alive. However, the Lord had not deserted us and I was ashamed for thinking for a moment, he had. Hope came to us, when the company of Apostle Franklin G. Richards overtook us and, seeing our plight, hurried with as much speed as possible, to Salt Lake City, to get help for us. When the rescue party found us, we had been in camp 3 days and had been without food for 48 hours. There was 18 inches of snow on the ground. We were very grateful for the provisions they brought. It was good to see my family eat again. It was Cyrus W. Wheelcock of the Dan Jones party that met us with the provisions and he could not hold back the tears, when he saw the condition of our company."
Ann and her family entered the Salt Lake Valley on 6 November, 1856 and were given food and shelter there. What an incredible testimony and determination Ann must have had to endure those four terrible months pushing a handcart. Reading her story makes me ask myself, What am I doing with my life? What is expected of me? My challenges aren't anything like Ann's, but I'm grateful for her example. If the Lord could help her endure what she did, he can surely help me with my hardships, however big or small.
A more lighthearded story is that of the ancestors who owned the cabin. I'm descended from the son, William Garner, Jr. His sister, Mary, had curly red hair that hung down her back in ringlets. As her family crossed the prairie to Utah, she caught the attention of an Indian chief who offered her parents "many ponies" if they would give her to him for a wife. Her parents, of course, refused, but her was determined and followed their wagon for several days. They never heard of him again until four years later they received a knock on their door in Slaterville, Utah. It was the same Indian chief! And he still wanted Mary for his bride. It took three days to convince him that he couldn't have Mary. Imagine her relief when he finally left for good! She must have had an incredible head of hair to motivate this man to follow her so far!
My favorite experience in Nauvoo was at the Old Nauvoo Cemetery. On Sunday morning, before attending church, we visited the cemetery and found the grave marker where two of Tamer's young children, Sarah Elizabeth Washburn and John E. Washburn, are resting. Their mother, Tamer Washburn, related the following vision which she had prior to the children's deaths:
She thought she went to heaven. Everything was beautiful beyond description. Such beauty and order prevailed everywhere. She came to a beautiful park where children were playing. Their play was supervised by very fine, intelligent women. Tamer then came to a small group and found her own two children among them, very happy and contented. The beautiful lady who had charge of the group said to her, "Do not grieve for your children, it is your privilege beforehand to see their joy and happiness here, and all the conditions which will surround them so that you will not mourn for them. " In a few weeks, the two children died. Tamer said that when they died, she did not shed a tear because the vision she had had was continually before her mind.
Our visit to Nauvoo really helped put life, death, and our eternal purpose in perspective. I get that same renewal of perspective every time I attend the temple. I'm so grateful for my membership in this incredible church and for my pioneer heritage.
So if you had been a pioneer, what would have been YOUR story? If you had a cause as dear to your heart as did the people of Nauvoo, would you leave everything behind to follow it? I sure hope I would.
