At this time of year, I'm especially grateful for my pioneer heritage. I do love the devotion of the pioneers of the Church. As I am writing about John Taylor, I know he didn't have many nails to build his house or many matches to lite a fire. All the little things we take forgranted--things we don't even give a second thought to were precious to them.
That first winter the pioneers supplemented their meager diet with sego lily and camus bulbs. They added thistle root when they could find it. How many of us would even consider eating those things now? I don't know if I would.
What faith they must have had to endure the trials before them.
Bathsheba Smith records that she swept the floor of her home in Nauvoo and set the broom in its accustomed place behind the door and walked into the unknown to journey west where her faith in God could grow.
I am grateful for her testimony.
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