| Show was one hope left howfeared and wept at the thought breaking hand-blistering hand cart the back We had no choice but to discard all unnecessary goods and clothing to make room for much needed food refused to part with my mother gift the cut-glass lump-sugar dish so wrapping it snugly in my extra change of clothing tucked it safely away in the cart At last we began that long hot pilgrimage across the plains to Utah territory lars beingstrong healthy boy of nineteen did more than his share of the work pushing the cart until his hands were raw One miletwo milesI must not stop Twenty milesthirty nilesonlythousand yet to go We watched our food supply dwindle and our health fail but still we plodded on Jens complained ofheadache thenraging fever consumed his wasted body One morning realized that my beloved husband would never live to see Zion and that nightwas forced to tell Lars My son your pa is leaving us There vas no time to mourn knelt once more by the lonely grave of my loved one then choking back sobs took my turn on the cart We sang Come come ye Saints mo toil or labor fear with heavy hearts When it seemed that our burdens were too heavy to bear we asked Godhelp then we felt His sustaining love and courage was renewed We ate Sego roots and berries Sometimes Lars was lucky withsnare catchingfat rabbit but we even ate wood-chuck when nothing else was available We drank herb tea steaming hot from our campfire saldprayer and pushed on At long last we reached the Salt Lake valley only to be directed to Sanpete overhundred miles farther south to the settlement of Manti We spent some time there but Lars thought we should settle permanently at Ephraim ten miles north where other Danish immigrants were congregating They called it Little Demmark Oh how sweet to hear our native tongue again what bliss to reach the end of the line Ephraim wasbeautiful sight to meWe Were Home Lars built this small where we have lived for the ning to ache am growing was but my memory is fresh Lars met lovely house in the south east last twenty years My old and my eye-sight is and my spirit is still widow from Demmark at church He seemed quite taken by her sweet face and manner Stena Christensen good Danish name -26wish cormer of town bones are beginnot what it once young last Sunday Her nane is he would marry her |
