Description

Mary Fielding Smith and the Lost Oxen

When you have done all that you can in a righteous effort, don’t forget the last step—ask God!

Mary Fielding Smith was a widow with many people dependent on her. She needed to get across the plains to the Salt Lake Valley the next season and supplies were critical. In the Fall of 1847, she journeyed to St Joseph, Missouri for those supplies. After obtaining them, she, her brother Joseph, and her nine year-old son, Joseph F. were returning to Winter Quarters. They camped one night in the Missouri River Bottoms. On the other side of a creek was a herd of beef cattle that herders were taking to market. Fearing that their oxen might mix with the herd, they left them yoked. This would keep them close to camp.

However, the next morning, the oxen were gone. Young Joseph F. and his uncle spent all morning looking for them. They searched everywhere until they were soaked from tramping through the dew-laden grass. They were stranded, out on the prairie in the middle of nowhere, how would they ever get their supplies home?

Joseph F. was the first to return to camp. As he approached, he saw his mother kneeling in prayer.

“I halted for a moment,” he said, “and then drew gently near enough to hear her pleading with the Lord not to suffer us to be left in this helpless condition, but to lead us to recover our lost team, that we might continue our travels in safety. When she arose from her knees I was standing nearby. The first expression I caught upon her precious face was a lovely smile which, discouraged as I was, gave me renewed hope and an assurance I had not felt before.”

A few minutes later Mary’s brother, Joseph, returned to the camp as fatigued and disheartened as his nephew. “Well, Mary,” he announced, “the cattle are gone!”

With a voice fairly ringing with cheer, Mary said, “Never mind; your breakfast has been waiting for hours, and now, while you and Joseph are eating, I will just take a walk out and see if I can find the cattle.”

Joseph F. said, “My uncle held up his hands in blank astonishment, and if the Missouri River had suddenly turned to run upstream, neither of us could have been much more surprised. “Why, Mary,” he exclaimed, “what do you mean? We have been all over this country, all through the timber and through the herd of cattle, and our oxen are gone– they are not to be found. I believe they have been driven off, and it is useless for you to attempt to do such a thing as to hunt for them.”

Mary told them to never mind and eat their breakfast. As they ate, she walked out of the camp and started with purpose towards the River. One of the herders met her and said,

“Madam, I saw your oxen over in that direction about daybreak,” The man was pointing in the opposite direction that Mary was walking. The man quickly rode off toward his herd, got them up and was soon out of sight.

Mary marched down to where the small stream emptied into the Missouri River and beckoned for her son and brother to come. They ran and there to their astonishment were the oxen tied off to a clump of willows deep in the ravine “perfectly concealed from view.”

“We were soon on our way home rejoicing,” Joseph F. said. He would remember with reverence that experience for the rest of his life, as will our loved ones if we pray with real intent for them, with them, and about them.

 

Source: Life of Joseph F. Smith, pp. 131-33)

Artwork by Julie Rogers

1 review for Mary Fielding Smith and the Lost Oxen

  1. Ron Hammond

    Lovely faith promoting story as they ALL are!

Add a review

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *