"Tombstones of sage and rock marked graves the entire route from Nauvoo to Salt Lake City. Such was the price some pioneers paid. Their bodies are buried in peace, but their names live on evermore."Tired oxen lumbered, wagon wheels squeaked, brave men toiled, Indian war drums sounded, and coyotes howled. Our faith-inspired and storm-driven ancestors pressed on. They, too, had their cloud by day and pillar of fire by night."Often they sang:"Come, come, ye Saints, no toil nor labor fear; But with joy wend your way. Though hard to you this journey may appear, Grace shall be as your day. . . . All is well! All is well! ("Come, Come, Ye Saints," Hymns, no. 30.)"These pioneers remembered the words of the Lord: 'My people must be tried in all things, that they may be prepared to receive the glory that I have for them, even the glory of Zion.' (D&C 136:31.)"As the long, painful struggle approached its welcomed end, a jubilant spirit filled each heart. Tired feet and weary bodies somehow found new strength."Time-marked pages of a dusty pioneer journal speak movingly: 'We bowed ourselves down in humble prayer to Almighty God with hearts full of thanksgiving to Him, and dedicated this land unto Him for the dwelling place of His people.' "
Thomas S. Monson, "Come, Follow Me," Ensign, July 1988, 4