Sunday, July 24, 2016

Pioneer Christmas by Taffy Lovell


 Pioneer Christmas

Ma, where will we be for Christmas this year?
In the Salt Lake Valley.
Will we get there before Christmas?
I hope so, little one.
But isn’t it Christmas right now?
No, dear, not yet.
But there is so much snow.
I know. Come along.
But my feet hurt.
Let me see them. I have a little material. Let me wrap them up.
Will we get Christmas dinner when we get to the Valley?
Grandma will have dinner ready for us.
 I’m hungry now.
We all are. I have a little shoe leather left. Chew it as we walk.
Ma, will Pa be home for Christmas?
No, love, he can’t be with us anymore.
Where is he?
We buried him in Martin’s Cove.
Will we see him again, Ma?
Will he be sad to miss Christmas?
I think he will be sad to not be with us. Do you know who was born on Christmas?
Yes.  And His Mother and Father loved him very much.
Did He grow big like me?
Yes He did. And one day Jesus had to leave His family even when He didn’t want to leave.
Just like Pa.
And just like Jesus, Pa is in Heaven.
Pa gets to spend Christmas with Jesus?
Yes he does.
Then Pa gets to have the best Christmas.
I think you’re right.
I still wish Pa was with us, pulling me in the handcart.
Do you want to get in the handcart now?
May I? The rocks are hurting my feet now.
Let me put you in with sister.
Sister is so cold, Ma.
Wrap your arms around her and hold her close.
Will she spend Christmas with Pa?
I would miss her terribly if she did, dear.
Ma? Can you hear the singing?
It must be the other Saints singing.
I can’t see no other handcarts. Didn’t angels sing when Jesus was born?
Ma, I think the angels are singing for us tonight so we are not alone.
I believe you are right, little one.

This is an original poem I wrote after we went on a pioneer trek through Martin's Cover, over Rocky Ridge and stopped in Rock Creek, where fifteen pioneers--men, women and children--were ubried in a mass grave.

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