OCR Text |
Show Our fioneerS By Maude Christensen Editor's Note: The following poem was composed and , given by Mrs. Maude Christensen, as a tribute to the Pioneers in the Sunday evening DUP program in the Third ward. Brigham Young was a man of might and chosen of the Lord To perform a work in these latter days and the way was very hard. But he was blest, and shown the way that this thing could be done, And the cloak of the Priesthood fell on him from Joseph the favored son. ' The persecution in old Nauvoo became more than the Saints could bear, So with inspiration at his command, he directed the whole affair. The Saints were sorry to leave that place, but they put their trust in God; , They gathered their treasures from near and far and "held fast to the iron rod". They started the trek o'er the trackless plains, a hope shone in their face, But they did not know what the trials would be before they had won this race. The cold and the heat, and the Indians too, and water to quench their thirst; Was parfof the trials of these faithful Saints, but illness I think was 'the worst. , . Meetings were conducted by men of God, and encouraging words were said. , Yet some did weary and returned to the place from which they had fled. They used the blessings the Prieshood gives, when illness seemed wont to stay. Which gave them hope and renewed their faith, to continue on their way. When the camp at night was set songs were sung and a bright tune played; That helped to cheer when spirits were low, as they sat in the evenings even-ings afterglow. Now you may hear another tune sprightly and gay that sets young feet atapping; 1 With swirling skirts and bonnets laid by, this is no time for napping. The older folks join in theMancing too, a fire burns bright you can see, And mother brings cookies right fresh from the jar to jjive to the fiddlers three. With troubles forgotten and cares laid by, all join in the merry fun, Finally goodnights were said, and they tumbled into bed, to await the rising sun. They faced the new day with hope in their hearts and prepared for a day of rest; Washing their clothes and baking fcheir bread, and making things look their best; They didn't have much but with gratf ul hearts they were able to worship and pray And thank the Lord for the blessings He gave and the courage to find the way. I ponder these things in a quiet hour, my father was just fourteen, When he crossed the plains with a family of six, my gradmother was a queen; She left a good husband beside the way, her heart was full of fears; But they continued on with a father gone, and a faith that'shone through tears. What can we thank these good folks for, just look around you and say, With grateful hearts, we'll do our part, as we celebrate on their Day Let's ever remember the price they paid in hardships work and tears And always cherish the memory too, of our faithful Pioneers. |