Sometimes when I must walk to school, it seems a long, long way.
I get to feeling tired and would like to stop and play.
But then I think of pioneers who walked by sun and star;
And suddenly my little walk doesn’t seem so far.
Sometimes on cold, dark winter nights I crawl beneath the sheet
And wish I had a cozy place to warm my chilly feet.
But then I think of pioneers who camped outside all night
And only had a fire’s glow to give them warmth and light.
Sometimes when I am hungry and want something good to eat,
My mother gives me carrots when I’d rather have a sweet.
But then I think of pioneers who thanked God and were glad
For anything at all to eat—my carrots aren’t so bad.
Sometimes when I have chores to do and I would rather play,
I think of pioneers and know they worked most all the day.
And so I guess I can’t complain about things that I must do,
For when I think of pioneers, I’m very blessed—aren’t you?
Here is a real story of just one of the thousands of pioneer children who migrated west in the late 1840s and early 1850s. This is a good one to tell children at a Primary pioneer activity, or a pioneer-themed family home evening. It would be fun if a dad or granddad could dress up for the part and tell the story as if he were Albert reminiscing when he was one of the pioneer children.
"Children Pioneers," by Fay McCracken, Friend, July 1995
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