When they were teenagers, my fourth great-grandmother and her sister sailed to the United States to walk across the plains with the Latter-day Saints migrating to Utah. Before they set off with handcarts, though, their parents changed their minds. Mary Jane and Eliza hid from them until they had boarded the ship back to England. Setting their faces toward the Salt Lake Valley, the two young women left behind their native home and family forever. They had new shoes for their journey, but they decided to save them so they would have pristine footwear to put on as they walked into Zion. They walked the entire journey barefoot. By the time they arrived, their feet were too swollen and calloused to fit into their shoes. In remembrance of the feet that have carried us here—bruised and blistered, scarred and swollen, both steadfast and faltering—we present a collection of essays to honor Pioneer Day, featuring four writers who share a connection with an ancestor that has touched them. We hope this series reflects the wisdom, solace, and strength we glean as our hearts turn to the generations before us. A kindling of recognition, a story that imparts courage, a shared grief—these are some of the gifts we receive as we commune with our family across time. May we find renewed faith as we remember the feet that carried us here and the footprints we leave for those who follow.

—Grace Carter

JULY 24TH: A PHOTO EXHIBITION

by Alexander Laurent

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