Transcript

Transcript for Aveson, Robert "Leaves From the Journal of a Boy Emigrant [3]," Deseret News, 12 Mar. 1921, 4:7

And now I will relate an incident in my own life while traveling across the Plains: We were nearly at the end of our journey—perhaps 100 miles from Salt Lake City. It was about the 24th of September, 1866. We started that morning as usual, but had not gone far when we were overtaken by a snow storm. I was not very well clothed for stormy weather but wrapped myself up as best I could.

Walking Barefoot in the Snow.

We had traveled perhaps two or three miles in the snow storm, when one of my shoes was so badly worn out it hurt my foot and I had to throw it away. Then I went to see our teamster, explained to him my condition and asked permission to ride. He blankly refused. So I had to do the best I could—walking barefoot in the snow. I was thousands of miles away from my home and relatives, so could make no appeal to them. Once more I applied to our teamster for the privilege of riding but he still persisted in denying my request.

Perhaps I traveled nearly two miles in this condition when my strength began to fail. So I sat down on a rock tired and weak. The train of ox teams was passing along. The snow was still falling. It looked as though I was going to be left behind. But a thought struck me in regard to prayer. When a child my mother had taught me to pray and I had formed that habit up to the present time. And if ever there was a time in my life when the effect of prayer could be tested it was then. So I exercised my faith and offered a silent prayer to my heavenly father—to him who watches over not only the widows and orphans the sick and afflicted, the poor and needy, but boys and girls when they are in need of his assistance. My prayer was answered, for when I looked toward the ox teams still passing, a shoe, which was thrown from one of the wagons, dropped down a short distance from me. Quickly I picked it up—it was too small, but by rubbing the skin off my heel, I managed to get it on. Off I went limping along with a light heart and a smile on my countenance. Six more days we reached Salt Lake City.

Arrival in Great Salt Lake City

After a long, weary and tedious journey of over six thousand miles, I arrived in Great Salt Lake City. September 30—a little over three months travel from Liverpool. Our train camped the night previous about seven miles up Parley's Canyon. Early that morning, Saturday, I started alone ahead of the train for the City of the Saints, fourteen miles distant.

Onward I sped until I reached the mouth of the canyon, and at a distance could see a portion of that much-talked-of city. As I approached it, how grand, how beautiful—it was a feast to my eyes! I was highly delighted with its fine residences and splendid orchards.