Elijah felt the wagon wheels bounce across the rutted prairie path below him. He knew he wasn’t well, his leg hurt terribly, but he’d never known serious sickness in his short ten year life.

His mother Abeline sat next to him, holding his hand and keeping the cool moist towel pressed to her son’s forehead. She worked hard not to cry.

Selling their little plot of land and most of their possessions to join the migration westward had seemed like the best choice for their family.

A large plot of fertile land would be a chance to build something, something that the children could count on to support them as they grew and started families of their own - not like the debt-burdened unproductive farm they were leaving behind.

Now four weeks and just 1000 miles into their journey, Abeline and her husband Jared could already see they’d made the wrong decision. They were so focused on the promise of prosperity for their family in the future that they’d blinded themselves to the danger of losing what they already had.

Without access to a doctor, they knew it could be just a matter of time before Elijah succumbed to the infection he’d contracted after cutting his foot the previous week.

Their daughter Jane hadn’t slept since they left St. Louis. She was overcome by anxiety from the loss of everything she’d known, and from the uncertainty of what lay ahead. Her eight year old mind could not handle it; she was acting out and threatening to hurt herself.

With his wife tending to Elijah, and his despondent daughter wrapped tightly in a blanket perched on the front of the wagon, Jared walked alongside with the oxen. He knew they’d only wanted what was best for their family in the future, but now he had to face the very real possibility that they were on a journey that would destroy it.