Description

Here Is Little Margaret

On September 2, 1847, on the Sweetwater River in Wyoming, Margaret Grant, the infant daughter of Jedediah and Caroline Grant, succumbed to cholera. She was buried on the side of a rolling, clay hill, not far from the trail. Her mother “[wept] as if her heart would break.” Yet, notwithstanding the grief, the wagon train hitched up and moved on.

With the loss of her baby, Caroline Grant grew weaker and weaker. Then Sunday, September 26, 1847, somewhere south of present-day Evanston ,Wyoming, Caroline was critically ill. For the first time, there was no Sabbath singing or preaching heard in the camp. Instead, the day was passed in fasting and prayer for Caroline’s recovery. Around midnight, Caroline closed her eyes and seemed to be sinking. To her husband, Jedediah, she whispered, “All is well! All is well! Please take me to the Valley—Jeddy. Get Margaret—bring her to me!”

“Brother Grant answered tenderly…as he sobbed with sorrow, ‘Yes, yes, Caroline. I’ll do my best. I’ll do my best.’”

The next morning, Jedediah Grant, true to his promise, set out for Salt Lake City with his beloved Caroline. Two days later, he would lay her to rest in the Valley. The entire community grieved at his loss. Caroline Grant was only 29 years-old, and the first white woman buried in the Salt Lake Valley.

Days later, Jedediah and a friend, Joseph Bates Noble, sat close to a small fire under the night sky of Wyoming. Jedediah requested that they sing some hymns. When they finished, Jedediah “sat with bowed head for some time, then he looked up, glowing with his former inspiration… and declared in a firm voice…’Bates, God has made it plain. The joy of paradise where my wife and baby are together, seems to be upon me tonight. For some wise purpose, they have been released from the earth struggles into which you and I are plunged. They are many, many times happier than we can possibly be here.’”

Days later, Jedediah and Bates reached the place where Margaret was buried. Noble described the events:

“A few paces from the little grave, we stopped hesitatingly…and stood with eyes fixed before us. Neither tried to speak. An ugly hole replaced the small mound; and so recently had the wolves departed that every sign was fresh before us. I dared not raise my eyes to look at Jedediah. From the way I felt, I could but guess his feelings. Like statues of the wilderness, we stood grown to the spot, each fully realizing that nothing more could be done. After several minutes of silent tears, we quietly withdrew, carrying away again only that which we had brought.”

Now moving forward nine years to November 1856—Jedediah Grant, now grievously ill himself, was granted a vision. He saw the world of spirits into which all will one day enter. He described the paradise of God as a heavenly place; beautiful beyond all description, filled with gardens, flowers, and buildings more glorious than anything found in this sphere. It was a place of perfect order, light, and cleanliness—a place of peace. Caroline came to him speaking words of comfort and instruction. She was beautiful. Margaret, too, was there, both glorious witnesses that the terrible tragedy of the plains was and would be overcome in the Paradise of God. On the night of December 1, 1856, Jedediah M. Grant passed into the world of spirits.

Source:

https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/manual/church-history-in-the-fulness-of-times/chapter-twenty-seven?lang=eng