some must push and some must pull

Our ward and the other two wards in our town did a pioneer trek last week, and John and I were a Pa and Ma for it.  We did it once before when we lived in Lehi, and it was such tremendous fun that we jumped at the chance to do it again.  Plus I am descended on two sides from people who were in the rescue party that went after the Willie and Martin handcart companies, so it was a good chance for me to reflect on how I'm doing, and if I've lived my life such that I could be depended on to go after someone who's struggling.  Maybe not, because we got dynamite kids assigned to us.  Maybe Heavenly Father knew if I got weaklings I'd crush their tentative little testimonies.  There's nothing so bad that complaining won't make it worse, and I'd be all, "Here's how it's going to go down.  Shut up.  Stop being a baby.  Start pushing this handcart, or we're going to send you home."  I am not so much with the nurturing, and I cannot abide a whiner.  I mean, it's not like they're eating two ounces of flour and having their hair freeze to the ground or their frostbitten feet chopped off with a butcher knife.  Some idiot kid was prowling around every night throwing dirt clods at tents and stealing stuff (maxi pads, even--just stealing to steal, then, are we?) and of course there were people shouting and carrying on until late at night, and girls trying to sleep in the boys' tents (all of these in other people's families), but all in all we had very few problems.  We walked fifteen miles on the first day, seven miles on the second, and only three miles on the third so we could return the handcarts.  And I didn't die or get dehydrated or get blisters or NUTHIN.  Go me! 

I love treks because it's so interesting to see how adversity, even minimal, manufactured adversity, affects people.  Some people start out as pukes and reform, some start out awesome and turn into pukes, some are awesome from start to finish, and some go home the same puke they were when they left, only they've annoyed way more people than usual.  I was really pleased with our little trek family.  My favorite people in the world are the ones who just do what they're supposed to with a good attitude, and that's what they did.  They pushed the handcart all day long, and as they pushed they sang.

Grant went too, since he's over twelve now, and he seemed to enjoy himself.  Of course he's too young to really grasp what a feat the handcart migration was, but there were enough opportunities to think about why they did what they did, and the importance of eternal families, that maybe some of it sank in.