Ancestors & Gratitude

Today is the 24th of July, which always causes me to reflect on my ancestors and the heredity I have been blessed with. This is a difficult post to write without watering my eyes. I have such vivid memories of childhood. I loved my grandparents very much -not because of anything they did really, just because of the connection I naturally felt to them. Family connection is something I have always felt deeply. I know it is difficult for people to read wordy blogs, so although I am tempted to write about each grandparent, my parents, my husband, and each of my children, today I will limit myself to write about an ancestor on my mothers side. My mother is Danish. A combination of Jensen and Christensen heritage. I will start with the beginnings as I know them. Much of this story is taken from the book "The Jensen Family Saga" by the children of Andrew S. and Caroline Jensen.

On April 8, 1830, Peter Mogensen (Americanized to Monsen) was born in Denmark. When he was a young man, he worked for a wealthy landowner by the name of Christian Nielson. Peter met Christian's daughter Dorthea Marie and fell in love with her. They were engaged to be married but about that same time, Peter was converted to the Mormon church and was baptized March 9, 1853. Soon after his baptism he baptized several members of his own family including his parents, his sister, and his fiance Dorthea Marie.

The young couple soon made plans to join the members of the church in Deseret, in the Mormon Territory far from Denmark in the Americas. As you can imagine, Dorthea Marie's parents did not want her to leave. If I put myself in their position and imagine never seeing my daughter again, it is hard to imagine the pain they must have been feeling. It is said that her father offered to will all of his vast properties if they would give up the idea of going with the Mormons and stay in Denmark. If they gave up his offer, however, they would get nothing. Their minds were made up; nothing could influence their decision to join the Saints. By now they were married with a baby named Christian.

They set sail for America with their baby son, Christian, on the vessel "John J. Boyd" on the 6th day of December 1855. There were 508 people in the company; 437 of them were Scandinavian Saints. The Voyage across the Atlantic brought many sad experiences of hardship. A dreadful disease broke out among the people, and many of them went to a watery grave, little Christian being one of them. This loss brought a deep heartbreak and sorrow to his parents, who had great hopes for this little soul. I can't imagine the pain of leaving my parents in Denmark knowing I would never see them again, and then losing my only child at sea. I imagine as a woman, that the only possible way to survive such a hardship would be through great faith in Jesus Christ and the Atonement. I would have to completely surrender myself to the knowledge that I would be reunited with those I love after this life is over. The Spirit would have to bear me up completely, and fill my soul with peace, because there is no possible way that I could bear such grief without faith in Christ, and the powerful gift of the Comforter.

These painful experiences served to strengthen my ancestors and gave them the strength they needed to endure the many trials of leaving a life of wealth and comfort, to face life as a pioneer -both crossing the plains and living the rugged and challenging life on the frontier. This is just one story in a pile of stories of my ancestors that each are a part of me. I am overcome with gratitude for those that came before me. They are examples of courage, integrity, ingenuity, determination, and an undying faith in the Lord.