I pause today and give thanks for the
Heritage I have.
I descend from Mormon Pioneers.
168 years ago today
spoke these prophetic words
THIS IS THE PLACE.
From that time in history, thousands upon thousands
crossed oceans, rivers, deserts, towering mountain peaks
to forge a new life in the great western desert valley's.
Deseret would one day become Utah!
The wagons and handcarts have long been put to rest.
But the souls they carried over the rugged trail
Will never be forgotten.
The wagon wheels may now be at rest, but
their imprint still remains today on the dirt trail of
the high plains of Wyoming and Utah.
More importantly the people they carried and the stories
they tell are serried on my heart forever.
They built roads, and cities, schools and churches.
And Temples to the Most High God.
They brought water to a parched desert land.
And planted gardens and orchards, and provided
for their own. All the while building and trail blazing
the American Frontier.
Within the walls of their humble homes,
young boys and girls were taught the values of life.
Man's destiny, and the power of an
And while they toiled and worked, miracles occurred,
The desert land blossomed just like a rose.
But in my mind, I tend to believe, the rose was much more
than the beautiful bloom of the flower.
The blossom of the desert was the families they produced.
Nothing can be more beautiful than families
that are bound by love, joy, toil and tears.
Sealed with Heavenly Father's promise.
"Many times I have looked back to see
who was pushing my cart,
but my eyes saw no one.
I knew then that the angels of God were there"
(Quote from a pioneer journal of Francis Webster)