Thursday, October 23, 1856 - Rocky Ridges Wyoming: Jen’s Nielsen and his wife Elsie struggled against the elements to pull their handcart over the barren rough terrain. The snow was deep and still coming, and the wind howled around them. The temperature with wind chill may have been well below zero. They were cold and weak, having traveled a great distance on foot without adequate food or clothing. What had brought them to this terrible ordeal in this seemingly God-forsaken place?

Missionaries had brought them the Gospel of Jesus Christ in their native Denmark. They embraced the faith, and soon thereafter sold their farm and commenced the journey to Zion. More affluent than most immigrants, they could have traveled in comfortable style, but they distributed their wealth instead, and provided means to help others make the journey. They crossed the plains like everyone else – with a handcart and a few pounds of supplies as part of the Willie Handcart Company.

Now, most remember the story of early winter storms catching the handcart pioneers on the high plains of Wyoming. Their story in the whole is a saga of courage and incredible sacrifice in answering the call of faith.

Jens and Elsie, and the two children with them, their five year-old son Jens, and nine year-old Bodil Mortensen who was traveling with them to Utah, came to the top of Rocky Ridge in Wyoming about noon. Young Jens was exhausted! The senior Jens’ feet were frozen, and every step was painful. Rocky Ridge stands at its summit over 7000 feet in elevation. With the snow, wind, and exposure, the conditions under which they pulled their handcart were awful beyond description.

Jens would later write, “No person can describe it, nor could it be comprehended or understood by any human living in this life, but those who were called to pass through it.”

With Jens pulling and Elsie pushing the cart, they started the descent toward Rock Creek. Little Jens would never make it; he died before they made it to camp that night. Bodil, the little woman like a daughter to Elsie, also succumbed to the cold shortly after she reached camp.

Somewhere on the road coming down, Jens collapsed in a heap still in the traces of the handcart, his feet so frozen they would be permanently deformed. He could go no further. He urged his wife to leave him and save herself.

Elsie looked at him and with incredible determination, said, “Ride. I cannot leave you. I will pull the cart.”

And she did. Jens Nielsen was a big man – over six feet two inches in height. Elsie didn’t even break five feet. Yet somehow she did it. She pulled her husband in a rickety handcart off the frozen blizzard waste of Rocky Ridges those remaining miles to Rock Creek as he cradled the frozen body of their son. The next day they buried their son and Bodil in a common grave, and walked on to leave a legacy of faith and continued service that will live forever!

To those who read their stories now, I say – we never know what we can do when we are determined to go forward with faith.