Love Came Down, a Christmas Story
Five generations back, my great grandmother, Hannah, who was three months pregnant, travelled with her young son and daughter, on a rickety small pox infected ship from Manchester, England to Upper New York state. Her daughter died on that ship. She left her husband behind because he had to work to earn money. She also left all of her extended family, parents and brothers, cousins, everyone. She and her son continued their lonely journey across the St. Lawrence seaway by boat and train, eventually ending up near St. Louis. She then walked 1300 miles, in her last trimester of pregnancy, across the plains to her destination, Salt Lake City, Utah. Her baby, my great great grandfather Jacob Chatterton, was born three weeks later. I think of my five times great grandmother, and her journey of faith, when I think of Mary on this Christmas Eve night. I think of their strength. I think of their faith. There are differences of course, my grandmother was an extraordinary human bei
