Well dear readers...this is the end of the marathon. The final mile. I promise next post will be about something different...maybe the creepy carnival or the potato bugs living in our basement or the wasps that have staked claim on our swing set or how I didn't lose enough weight to win $620.00 this summer. Sigh. I'm back to plotting on how to win Deal or No Deal.
So the final day of trek. Despite what it may seem, trek was only 3 days. So even though these blog entries make it sound like we were out there for a season, it really was pretty quick. We woke up, did some mental prep before using the poop laden port a potty, and ate a quick breakfast. Then we broke camp and packed everything up. It was a sad moment. I didn't want to go home and have to face laundry and house cleaning and the telephone and deadlines and projects. I just wanted to stay on the prairie.
Once we were packed up, we headed over for our last devotional. Today's theme was "consecration". I was chasing restless children through most of the meeting but at one point I looked over and saw J. standing up front with a group of people who were doing different speaking parts. J. calmly walked up to the microphone when it was his turn and delivered his little part that I didn't know he had. I asked him afterwards what had happened and he said one of the boys that was supposed to do a part got sick so they asked if he would like to fill in. He took the piece of paper they handed him, memorized his part while standing up front and delivered the whole thing from memory. He said it like it was no big deal and I just stood there and wondered for the millionth time in my life where this amazing child came from! At moments like that I like to say he gets it from his mother but I'm not fooling anyone!
Toward the end of the devotional, they had a gentleman from our ward stand and sing the song written by President Hinckley "Oh Death, Where Is Thy Sting?". As he sung the song, several different members of our ward (couples, fathers, mothers, children) stood and walked away from the group. We watched them slowly walk over the hill and disappear from sight. After the musical number, we were told that these individuals represented the members of our handcart company that did not survive the trip. They had us leave to start the trek out and as we rounded the first bend on the trail, these individuals were lined up on either side of the trail standing silently and watching us pass. They had one of the young women playing a hymn on the flute...it was truly a humbling, sweet moment. These people were my friends and neighbors. How tragic the circumstances were to have had to say good bye to so many on those trails to Zion. I think all of us were also thinking of the friends we have had to say good bye to in the last few months. The heartache, the fear, the hopelessness...and yet we have watched the women and children in both of these families pick up and keep moving. I felt such gratitude for the examples of Ryan and Katie and Erik and Emily. They exemplify and emulate all that is good and hopeful in their continued journeys.
As we continued along the trail, we came to a point where we met up with a group of youth and their leaders who were also trekking. They lined up along the trail as we passed and gave us a rousing "Hurrah for Israel". It was inspiring and motivating!
There had been rumor that the trek out would be shorter than the trek in but as time passed, we quickly realized this was not to be the case. We were headed back by another route and it was definitely longer than the one in. Everyone was tired after 3 days out on the prairie. I noticed my kids had slowed down...the handcarts seemed to moving pretty fast but my poor M. just couldn't keep up. He didn't ask to ride but several times we fell pretty far behind our handcart so that he could keep up. I actually didn't mind at all. I loved walking with M. and having that time alone with him. After started our walking again following one of our breaks, M. and I fell into step with some friends and their kids who were also needing to take it slow. I think it was my favorite part of trekking that day. I got to walk with one of my favorite adult people and some of my very favorite little people. We sang, we played super heroes, we jumped the "cow poop", we watched the cows play...it was wonderful! I can't tell you how inspired and motivated I am by the beautiful children around me. I consider it a great privilege to associate with and be a part of their lives. And I admire and adore the grown-up people around me. We have been truly blessed in our associations in this ward and neighborhood. I am constantly in awe of their lives and families and influence on others. Trekking across the poopy cow pasture was no exception!
As we were nearing what we finally thought was the end, Sister Rich stopped each handcart company and gave each family an envelope with the "conclusion" to the story of the pioneers we were trekking for. We had had the privilege of reading about our pioneer family before we went on trek so we already knew their story but it was a wonderful conclusion to the experience. I took H. out of the handcart because I wanted her to "walk" the rest of the way to Zion. We really did think the parking lot was right around the corner...or the next corner...or the next corner. Twenty minutes later I picked her up and started to carry her. She promptly fell asleep on my shoulder. Poor M. was dragging. He had walked the whole way and had just about had it. Again, to my rescue came more favorite people. They rearranged their children so that Bro. Larson was carrying H. and I could put M. on my back. And thus we arrived in Zion.
I won't kid you though...I didn't really feel like we arrived in Zion until we walked out of Wendy's with our big king size Frosties purchased as soon as possible on the way home. THAT is Zion.
And thus ended one of the great experiences of my life. It has been a highlight this summer, an experience that has touched me for good. I am so grateful to have had that adventure with my family...it is one we will draw on collectively for many years to come and has provided many discussions and opportunities for teaching with our kids. I love that we got to share it together.
"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 ours now. There are lessons for us in every footstep they took--lessons of love, courage, commitment, devotion, endurance, and, most of all, faith. Those 19th century pioneers to whom we pay special tribute never set out to be heroes, and yet they accomplished heroic things. That is what makes them Saints. They were a band of believers who tried to do the right things for the right reasons, ordinary men and women who were called on to perform an extraordinary work. At times, they gave in to their discouragement and allowed themselves to murmur and complain. But ultimately their faith in God and the man they sustained as their prophet and leader prevailed, and they righted their vision and attitudes along with their wagons. In the process they found joy amid the hardships and trials of the trek.
No matter how difficult the trail, and regardless of how heavy our load, we can take comfort in knowing that others before us have borne life's most grievous trials and trgedies by looking to heaven for peace, comfort, and hopeful reassurance. We can know, as they knew, that God is our Father, that He cares about us individually and collectively, and that as long as we continue to exercise faith and trust in Him there is nothing to fear in the journey." (Russell M. Ballard)
Hurrah for Israel!
