In Amelia's Words - History Blog
There's nothing like a long camping trip or a missions trip to a third world country to make us keenly aware of the comforts we enjoy on a daily basis. Running water, electricity, warm comfortable beds, heating and air conditioning, a refrigerator, doors that lock, cooking over a range, using a microwave, the availability of fast transportation, the availability of medical care. The list goes on and on.
One of the reasons I love history is the perspective we gain, especially when we read about the hardships of war or the hardships of pioneers. I'm fascinated with the stories of women who traveled west across what is now the United States during the 1800s. I especially love to read their diaries where we can peer into their souls as they try to convey what they are experiencing day after grueling day.
Amelia Knight wrote of traveling to Oregon in 1853. She traveled with her husband and 7 children, and gave birth to her 8th in the Cascade Mountains of Oregon while still on the trail.
From mid-April to mid-September, she and her family suffered through months of severe cold, severe heat, damaging windstorms, rain, mud, dust, runaway livestock, river crossings, drenched wagons that needed to be unloaded and dried many times, illness of children, lack of food, injuries of children, fatigue, short tempers, discouragement.
I will only share one actual entry to give a good picture of her indomitable spirit. This was written by her less than 2 weeks before she delivered baby number 8.
Saturday September 10th: It would be useless for me with my pencil to describe the awful road we have just passed over. Let fancy picture a train of wagons and cattle passing through a crooked chimney and we have Big Laurel Hill. After descending several bad hills, one called Little Laurel Hill, which I thought is as bad as could be, but in reality it was nothing to this last one called Big Laurel.
It is something more than half mile long very rocky all the way, quite steep, winding, sidling, deep down, slippery and muddy, made so by a spring running the entire length of the road, and this road is cut down so deep that at times the cattle and wagons are almost out of sight, with no room for the drivers except on the bank, a very difficult place to drive, also dangerous, and to make the matter worse, there was a slow poking train ahead of us, which kept stopping every few minutes, and another behind us which kept swearing and hurrying our folks on and there they all were, with the poor cattle all on the strain, holding back the heavy wagons on the slippery road.
The men and boys all had their hands full and I was obliged to take care of myself and little ones as best I could, there being no path or road except the one where the teams traveled. We kept as near the road as we could, winding around the fallen timber and brush, climbing over logs, creeping under fallen timber, sometimes lifting and carrying Chat. [Chat was her youngest child]
To keep from smelling the carrion, I, as others, holding my nose... I was sick all night and not able to get out of the wagon in the morning.
Eight and a half months pregnant and she managed to make her way down this steep, treacherous ravine while helping her tiny son.
Our problems might seem pretty insignificant compared to Amelia's. But in completely different ways, some of us might be experiencing a very difficult path with roadblocks all along the way. All I can say is, keep trekking; one foot in front of the other. And keep looking up.
I can imagine her and others like her feeling completely depleted. And she, like most of us, when we feel that way, turn our eyes toward heaven and cry out for help. We do it because we know our God listens and cares.
"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7)
"For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, 'Fear not, I am the one who helps you.'" (Isaiah 41:13)
