Guest Blog: Eliza's Fire by Princess - Part 2

If you read part 1 of this post, this all makes perfect sense. If not, back up one post and then read them both.

And here is the script from my portrayal. I never told it quite like this, but you will get the general idea. 

My name is Eliza, and I was born in England in 1824. When I was fourteen years old, I sang at the coronation of Queen Victoria. My family was very proper and English, which is one of the reasons my mother was so upset when I married Joseph Burton, a poor delivery boy. 

One day, while Joseph was out making deliveries, he came upon a missionary who shared about the Book of Mormon. I was not very happy about this. There were a lot of rumors about the book and the church that went along with it. My mother told me if I joined that church, she would never speak to me again. 

So when Joseph told me he was going to be baptized, I was very upset. That night, I knelt beside my bed to pray, and ask God if what Joseph was doing was right. Immediately, my room filled with light, and I took that as a sign that the Book of Mormon was from God. I ended up getting baptized before my husband. I was twenty-five years old.

A few years later, we decided to travel to Utah. Unfortunately, Joseph died before we set sail, so I was alone with my seven-year-old son and four-year-old daughter. We spent a month on a ship to Massachusetts, then a few days on a train to Iowa before joining the Martin Handcart Company. 

There were some delays getting our handcarts ready, so we did not start our trek until the beginning of July. Several people tried to encourage us to wait until next year, because we wouldn't reach Salt Lake before winter hit, but we weren't worried. It was the middle of summer! We were more worried about sun burns than snow storms. 

The trail was not easy, especially with two young children. Our handcarts were cheaply made and broke often. We ran out of food. People got sick. And then it started snowing. My little boy lost two of his toes to frostbite.

When we got to the Sweetwater River, I had to tie my children to a tree so they would not follow me into the water. At this point, some of the rescuers had arrived from Utah and were carrying people across, but I was too stubborn to ask for help. I crossed that frozen river five times–first to carry my son, then back to carry my daughter, and finally to retrieve the handcart.

When we got to Utah, my new bishop introduced me to a widower named Nathan Staker. Nathan already had seven children of his own, and the bishop suggested I marry him so those children could have a mother. Even though Nathan was twenty years older than me, and a stranger, I decided to do what the bishop said. 

Nathan and I moved here, to Mt. Pleasant, and were one of the few to successfully grow an orchard. One day, my little girl drowned in the ditch. We sent for the apostle Orson Hyde and he brought her back from the dead. My life was full of many miracles including my seven children, many of whom have descendants living in Mt. Pleasant today.