Description
God Helps Those Who Help Themselves – Betsy Smith Goodwin
It was 1855, near Dundee, Scotland, when Betsey’s mother announced to her daughters that they were going to America with the handcart companies next season. The oldest son was already there and working a farm near Lehi, Utah. Betsey says the girls laughed, but the spirit of the gathering filled them and they went to work and soon were able to pay their passage for Zion. In May 1856, they bid farewell to their “dear old Scotland.”
In her late years, now as a widow, Betsey Smith Goodwin was asked to write her memories of the Trail. These are some of her most profound recollections.
“On the 15th day of July, 1856, we rolled out of the Iowa City camp, on our way to cross the plains with handcarts. Our captain was James Gray Willie, and his counselors were: Millen Atwood and Levi Savage. There were 120 handcarts and six wagons, and about five hundred people, sixty-six of whom died on the journey.”
“I will not dwell upon the hardships we endured, nor the hunger and cold, but I like to tell of the goodness of God unto us. One day, especially, stands out from among the remainder. The wind blew fresh, as if its breezes came from the sea. It kept blowing harder until it became fierce. Clouds arose, the thunder and lightning were appalling. Even the ox teams ahead refused to face the storm. Our captain, who always rode a mule, dismounted and stepped into the middle of the road, bared his head to the storm, and every man, as he came up, stood by him with bared head—one hundred carts, their pullers and pushers, looking to their captain for counsel. The captain said, “Let us pray.” And there was offered such a prayer! He told the Lord our circumstances, he talked to God, as one man talks to another, and as if the Lord was very near. I felt that he was; and many others felt the same. Then the storm parted to the right and to the left! We hurried on to camp, got our tents pitched, and some fires built, when the storm burst in all its fury!”
“Another circumstance I remember clearly. My mother was taken very sick with cramp and cholera. A very fatal trouble in our weakened condition. We all felt bad about mother. I remember thinking, ‘Many are dying: mother may die, and what a dark world it would be without our dear mother!’ As I gathered the sage to burn on our camp-fire, I couldn’t keep from crying. When I met mother, she asked me what was the matter. I told her how badly I felt.”
“She said, ‘Do not feel like that; pray for me.’ I have been out yonder in the snow praying to the Lord to spare our lives, that we might get through to the Valley. I will never murmur nor complain, whatever we pass through, when we get there. God heard our prayers, and she kept her word. Even when, in years following, she went blind with age, she never murmured.”
“About three miles on this side of Green River, as I was walking ahead of the train, leading my little brother of six, and encouraging him along by telling him stories of what he would get when we arrived at the Valley, he said: ‘When we get to that creek, I wish we could see our brother Rob.’
“I said, ‘Come along, maybe we will, when we get to the top of the bank.’
“When we arrived at the top of the bank and looked down we saw a wagon with just one yoke of oxen on. We had never seen the like before, so we waited on the summit until they should pass. The man stared at us, and as his team came beside us, he yelled, whoa, to the oxen. It was then we knew him. He jumped off the wagon and caught his sisters in his arms as they came up with the cart. How we all wept with joy! The cart was then tied behind the wagon. Little Alex climbed into the wagon as happy as a prince, instead of a poor, tired child.
“The next question from Rob was, ‘Where is mother and Sister Mary?’
“’They are behind somewhere, Robby. You will find them by the road.’ Mother was still sick, and when she stopped to rest she had to lie down; she could not sit up. Some had died that way; they would go to sleep and never awaken. Mary was afraid that mother would do likewise, and tried to arouse her by telling her about a team coming with only one yoke of cattle on.
“Mother replied, ‘Well, never mind, Mary; don’t bother me; I am so tired.’
“’Well, mother, the man is running this way. It surely is Robert.’
“’O, no, Mary; that would be too good to be true!’
“Well, she was soon convinced, as Robert took her in his arms and helped her into the wagon. As he did so, mother exclaimed, ‘I couldn’t be more thankful to get into the kingdom of heaven than I am to see you and lie here and rest.’”
Explanations followed. Robert stated that he had suffered from a mountain fever and was just recovering when he received a letter that we were coming. He then borrowed and hired an outfit to come and meet us. None too soon!
And then Betsey concludes with this testimony.
“And now Brother Editor of the Era, you said you would like my story. I have therefore written these few recollections. For the benefit of the youth of Zion who may read this, I bear testimony that God hears and answers prayers, and the Lord will help those who help themselves”
Betsey Smith Goodwin, aged 73, Beaver Utah.
And so He does!
Sources:
https://www.tellmystorytoo.com/member_pdfs/elizabeth-(betsy)-smith_1969_427.pdf
https://files.lib.byu.edu/mormonmigration/articles/tiredmother.PDF
