As Marianne has told you, we are lucky today to talk about our experience on the Trek a few weeks ago. We were blessed to be able to participate with our youth in this, feel an amazing spirit, and walk where the Savior walked.

            We spent lots of time planning for the Trek. One of the things we were asked to do was find a name of someone who went on the Trek and walk for, or in honor of, that person. The person I chose was a man named Levi Savage. Levi was returning from a mission to England, and a well known frontiersmen, so he was asked to help lead one of the last hand cart companies to Salt Lake. When they were setting out from Iowa, Levi knew that it was too late in the year to go, and that the companies were not equipped or strong enough (there were many more women and children to men than other companies). He actually spoke up at one meeting against going, telling people strongly that they were going to suffer if they decided to go. I sympathized with this. I didn't understand, at first, why these people would head out on a trek that seemed so ill-advised. However, as I learned more about the circumstances these people were in - many were completely destitute and had no way to survive the winter unless they were in Salt Lake, I realized that the only option they had was to press forward and have faith that it would be okay.

            Though Levi Savage was against the Trek, he realized the importance of it and told the people that he would go with them, help them, and even die with them if that was what was asked. He did accompany the Willie handcart company the entire way, helping and saving lives. I admire his faith, and would like to think I would have been strong enough to make the same decision if I were in his shoes.

            One part that Marianne left out is our transportation to and from the Trek site. When Trek stories are told, this part is not really a highlight. The same for the original trek - we focus on the trek over the plains, and don't think much about how they came to be gathered in Iowa and ready to cross the plains. Most of these people hoping to find Zion, were converts from Europe. So, by the time they were ready to start pushing their handcarts over the plains, they had already been traveling for months by sea and train to get there. They had spent lots of money, their life savings for many of them. They endured cramped, hot and stuffy conditions just to get to the point to walk 1000 miles. Our bus ride was nothing like this, but we did get a small glimpse of it, because our bus ended up not having a working air conditioner. Let me tell you, this modern convenience is incredible! The ride back was especially bad - we had to stop at gas stations to buy ice for the kids to put on their heads and necks. The bus was a great time to get to know each other better, and to catch up on several years of Mormon Cinema. It was actually tons of fun.

            Obviously, the women's pull was a powerful experience for many who went on the Trek. Both Marianne and I were very moved as we participated in it. I'd like to share some of my thoughts and perspective. But first, I need to set the stage a bit. As we were preparing for the Trek, many people who had gone before, President Gage in particular, had warned us that this would be one of the most spiritual experiences we had ever had. He even went as far as to warn us that we would cry, more than once...  I listened to this with a bit of skepticism. I knew it would be great, and that I would probably feel the spirit, but we had done some church history tours before, and so I thought I knew what was in store for us. Let me tell you: he was right. There was not one dry eye as we participated in the women's pull, including mine.

            So, the women's pull happened rather late in the day. We had been treking for several hours in the hot sun, with very little relief.  Our family had four strong, older boys, so we hadn't had to exert much effort to keep our cart rolling and running smooth.  However, we only had three young women in our family, and one of them was sick for most of the time we were there and actually rode on a cart most of the way. We had just finished lunch (and refilled our water so that we were carrying a nice heavy load) and could see a big hill in the distance. At that point, the very first, small cloud of the whole trip, covered the sun. I thought it was a "Trek Miracle" (which our family had been watching for - a little in jest, but also finding the hand of God many times), but the cloud quickly passed. As we came closer to this "hill" it became apparent that it was more than just a hill. We were heading for a small mountain. I dismissed the thought that it would be the site of the Women's Pull because it was just too big. I was wrong. When we came to the base of the hill, we stopped for a water break, and then they called the men away. I frantically tried to make sure my girls were prepared. I made them drink some water and find their gloves. And then, half jokingly, gave my wife a good luck kiss. Then said goodbye. I knew it was going to be difficult, but the spirit of the moment had not hit me in full yet. But then, after just two or three steps away from my wife and my daughters, I started crying for no reason. So I quickly pushed my sunglasses closer to my face to cover the tears and save face a little bit, but the tears just kept coming. As I kept hiking up this hill (by far the steepest and longest we climbed),  I kept thinking about how, at one point in the Saint's history, 500 men were called away from their families, and then far, far more got called away to serve missions.  I kept thinking how incredibly difficult that would be - whether in Salt Lake, in Nauvoo, or on the plains, because you would have no idea what was going to happen or if they would be okay. Life is unpredictable, children grow, illnesses happen, and a man called away from his family for years at a time would have no guarantee that he was leaving them safely. I imagined it felt as though one would be leaving with the realization that they could die, especially if he must leave while they were crossing the plains.  As I kept climbing, the realization that Marianne and the girls would not make it up the hill overwhelmed me. Three (because of our sick daughter, who did, by the way, walk up the hill - but definitely didn't push) were not enough to push that heavy cart up the hill.

            We kept walking and walking. The hill had a saddle in it, or a spot that it leveled out a little. I thought that we would stop there, wait for the ladies and help them the rest of the way. But, we just kept climbing. I tried to spot the top, thought I did, but as we came to that spot, it became apparent that there was yet another tier to climb. Still, our leaders kept going. At this point, I was feeling some frustration and anger at the leaders guiding us up the hill. I thought that they could have made their point, and then let us help the women get our carts up the hill. I'm sure there were some members at that time of the pioneers that felt those very same feelings. Why would the Lord ask such a difficult thing? Many of us feel those feelings now. However, the reason the Women's Pull was so huge and powerful was because it was difficult. If it was easy, it wouldn't have meant nearly as much.

            Finally, we made it to the top of the mountain. I turned around and could not even see the women. I could only imagine what they were doing or how they were faring. I could picture my wife and girls inching their way up the mountain.

            While we waited for the women to climb the mountain, President Leis talked to us about the divine roll of women. These beautiful, strong, faithful women that we are so lucky to associate with and to cling to. Then, we waited silently for what seemed like forever. Finally, the first handcart came over the ridge. It was the leader cart, and they seemed to be doing fine with their lighter cart.  But then, there was a big gap to the next cart that was being pulled by young women. As they passed, we removed our hats and stood on either side of the trail, and had to just watch as they struggled up the last portion of the mountain. After a few carts passed, my family finally came into view. I noticed immediately that there was an extra person pushing our cart. No, not an angel, but a angelic helper. I realized, when I saw that, that we aren't meant to be alone and struggling. The church has organizations and resources to help us as we climb our mountains. Our works alone may not always be enough, but there is help. Like my wife talked about, the Lord with provide. Sometimes, an angel will push us along, but far more often, help comes to us from the people around us.

            After all the women made it to the top of the hill, the men gathered and sang the song Emma just sang, Army of Helamen. I love the power this song gives to all of us, to know that we have God behind us that we can do whatever he asks. After the song, we got to be with our families again. I hurried to Marianne and gave her a big hug and tried to tell her how much I love her. She was sobbing, which made me cry even more. It took a while before we were all calmed down enough to drink and rest, and then finally, unbelievably, we were able to carry on.

            The last day of the Trek was something unique to Marianne and I. It was our 11th anniversary. What a way to celebrate! Although maybe not the most romantic thing, being on our third day without a shower, it was certainly inspiring. One of the reasons the early saints were so anxious to find Zion was because of their conviction about the temple. They longed to be able to go to the temple, make covenants with God, and be sealed to their loved ones. As Marianne and I celebrated, I was very grateful for the covenants we had made together, 11 years earlier, and so glad we will be together forever. The temple is worth every sacrifice.

            I'd like to turn from sharing experiences now to a thought I have pondered. That thought begins with a question: Why?  Why, if these people were being faithful, did God let such tragedy happen? First, the obvious answer was that it strengthened those who endured it. The trek to Utah changed lives. Those who suffered knew their Savior and never lost their faith.  Second, I believe that the church as a whole was strengthened because of the trials of the Willie and Martin Handcart companies. As soon as Brigham Young and the members in Salt Lake heard the news that there were two other handcart companies still on their way, they had a rescue party prepared the next day. The members in Salt Lake sacrificed possessions and family members to go out into stormy, cold weather to help strangers who they knew needed them. And finally, I believe it happened for our sake, so that we can read their stories and have these experiences to help our own testimonies grow.

            So, why do we go on the Trek? Why is it so important to remember the challenges our pioneer forefathers endured?  I especially wondered if it really meant so much to me, without any related ancestors on the Trek, as it did to Marianne, who has a whole book of pioneer stories on both sides of her family. There are many answers to this question, but let me use some of President Hinckley's words to put my thoughts together.

            "Can a generation that lives with central heating and air conditioning, with the automobile and the airplane, with the miracle of television and the magic of the computer understand, appreciate, and learn from the lives and motives of those who had none of these and yet accomplished much of tremendous consequence?

            In the environment in which many of us live, there is need for reminders of lessons learned in the past. In our times of abundance, it is good occasionally to be taken back to earlier days, to have our minds refocused on the struggles of the early Latter-day Saints.  Oh, how much is faith needed in each of our lives—faith in ourselves, faith in our associates, and faith in the living God."

            We need and can find faith in ourselves as we learn about the pioneers. They had traveled from the Missouri River, taking three months to cover the distance we cover in two hours by airplane.   We can find faith in ourselves as we do difficult things in a creative, positive way with our eyes on God.

            We need and can find faith in others as we learn about the pioneers. Our pioneer forebears worked together for the common good. I am profoundly grateful for the essence of that spirit of helpfulness which has come down through the generations.

            And finally, we need and can find faith in the living God as we learn about the pioneers. They  regarded their coming west as a blessing divinely given.  The power that moved our gospel forebears was the power of faith in God. It was the same power which made possible the exodus from Egypt, the passage through the Red Sea, the long journey through the wilderness, and the establishment of Israel in the Promised Land. It was by this power that our gospel forebears left Nauvoo and the beautiful lands of the Mississippi to travel to the shores of the Great Salt Lake.

            Theirs was a vision, transcendent and overriding all other considerations. When they came west they were a thousand miles, a thousand tedious miles, from the nearest settlements to the east and eight hundred miles from those to the west. A personal and individual recognition of God their Eternal Father to whom they could look in faith was of the very essence of their strength.

            I know the faith the pioneers had can be ours. I bear witness that I felt the spirit and power of God. I know He loves us and I know He lives.