Anne likes to have a story while we're driving. Today on the way to Claire's physical therapy I told my favorite one about the handcart pioneers, the one that ends with,
"I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, I can go only that far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it...I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there."
I was so choked up I almost couldn't finish telling it.
Claire's response was, "Spooky! Haunted handcarts!"
Forgive me, Mormon pioneers. I have failed you.
1 comment:
Ha! My kids think Jesus was one of the Avengers or at least part of the Justice League, so you are doing better than me.
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