Personal Narrative Essay: My Hero's Journey

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The Mississippi never freezes over. I guess that’s why everybody claimed it to be a miracle. I was already missing the Beautiful City by the time my new leather boots set foot on the frozen river. Months before the journey Momma was already sewing us new clothes and saving her coins to purchase us boots from the tailor. Leaving Nauvoo, was one of the hardest things I’ve done. Prophet Brigham Young taught us faith and how that will keep us going on this trek to Zion. I found that it is much easier to sing about Zion than actually making the journey. A few days into the trek several families turned around and headed back. “Why are they turning back?” Thomas my six year old brother would ask, his little brow crinkling up. “They didn’t have enough faith,” said Papa looking down on Thomas from the wagon,”but we must stay strong in the faith we have.” Its memories like these that keep me going. Funny to think that was only a two weeks ago I was sleeping in my padded warm bed…show more content…
I wasn’t planning on attending but mother rearranged my plans and told me I wouldn’t be disappointed. The sun started setting, music was playing, and I was sitting comfortably by myself watch it. It wasn’t as pretty as the sunsets in Nauvoo, but I could live with it. I was soon kindly interrupted by a young man. He lent out his hand to me. “Would you care for a dance?” I looked up at him extending my hand to him and he helped me up with ease. I smiled at him and took his hand, and he led me to the dance square. Once we arrived I took a quick glance at my mother. She was staring back at me holding back a smile. It took all I had not to start laughing. He took me by the waist and I placed my hand on his broad shoulder. “And who might you be?” I inquired of him “Charles Windle” He replied in a low but smooth voice,“Who be you?” “Kathryn Mills” I answered,”but people usually call me Kay” “Kathryn Mills eh?” I nodded and he smiled,”what color do you
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