We Have Pioneer Ancestors!





For 40 years Dad and I have celebrated Pioneer Day with the rest of the Church.  We celebrated those brave men, women and children that walked the plains; conquered challenges that we could never imagine; admired their testimonies; and wanted better for themselves and their families.  Then we realized that we were a lot like them.   We celebrated Pioneer Day celebrating ourselves and those like us that live by faith, grateful for our ancestors for coming to America to give us the blessings that we have.

But, lo, and behold.....Dad received an email from Family Search saying that he had a pioneer ancestor that walked to Utah as an 11 year old boy.  George Albert Goodrich.  His mother was Penelope Randall Gardner and she is our relative through the Bryant side of the family that lived in Plymouth, Massachusetts.  Her brother sent the missionaries to her and her family in Massachusetts.  Some were baptized and others were baptized by Wilford Woodruf as they crossed the plains. 

Imagine the day that we get to meet her!!  

Here is her testimony from her journal at age 75.


This portion is taken from FindAGrave: Written by Penelope when she was 75 years old as part of her journal.
PENELOPE RANDALL GARDNER GOODRICH
So I am seventy-five years old, and when I look back upon my past life it seems but yesterday, or but a few years at most, since I, in my childish glee, was playing with my brothers and sisters around my father's hearthstone, and where are they now? An echo says where? Ah, some of them are gone to that home from which no traveler returns, and gone too without hearing the sound of the everlasting gospel as it is declared to us in this last dispensation.
As I grew to womanhood, my mind became more serious, being impressed with the idea that there was something more for me to do than to eat, drink, and be merry. And as religious meetings were common, revival meetings frequent, I attended many of them and in the process of time had my name enrolled with the Wesleyan Episcopal Methodist, and for nearly twenty years was a member of that society. Had many reasons of rejoicing with them, believing they were the best people there were in the world, because they were the most persecuted of any people or sect that I knew of in those days. Something over twenty years ago, my brother George Gardner, (who is now living in Arizona) came to make me a visit. He brought the truths of the Everlasting Gospel with him, taught them to me. I believed and embraced the same. I came out from the Methodist, was led into the waters of baptism by an Elder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the 2nd of September 1849.
In the spring of 1850, I, with all my family, started from the Eastern states, even Massachusetts, for the valley of the mountains and arrived here in the October following. Did I make any sacrifice? Not in my feelings, but as the saying is, our property went for a song. I did not care for that, if I could only get to the Valley. I am here, and not for one moment have I ever wished myself back again. I can see the hand of the Lord has been over me for good even from my childhood up to the present time. Nevertheless I have had many trials, troubles and afflictions to pass through, but the Lord has sustained me. Even now, in my old age, He is my comforter and my guide. Praise be His holy name!

Written by Penelope when she was 75 years old as part of her journal.
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Penelope Randolph Gardner was born the third child in the large family of Abel and Lusannah Bryant Gardner. Penelope first heard about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from her brother, George Bryant Gardner. She and four of her children were baptized September 2, 1849. Prior to joining the LDS Church, Penelope had been a devout member of the Episcopal Methodist Church for over twenty years. Penelope began keeping a detailed journal of her life shortly after the death of her husband which can be found in the "Goodridge-Goodrich Family Story." Her final entry in her journal reads, "I am now 81 years and 5 months old. . . . I do feel thankful to my Heavenly Father that I can do as well as I have. My sight is poor; my hand is not as steady as formerly. God be praised for all his goodness to me. I close this 26th day of May, 1875." She died seven months later.



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