Looking Ahead to Brighter Horizons or How We Came To Undertake This Perilous Journey

I am writing this in the hope that my children's children may know the sacrifices made by their parents in order to secure a future for them. We did not come to this decision lightly, but with much prayer, and contemplation. We feel that it is in the best interest of all to make this journey.
It is 1845. Times have been hard in the last few years. Even in our small community I am one of three blacksmiths. Getting work is difficult. Meals have been meager for far too long, and me and Abby both feel it is time for a change. We see the lack of the land on our children's faces everyday. Our house is getting cramped and is falling into disrepair before I can find the time to finish even my daily chores. Abby and I have been discontented for many months now, but it wasn't until several of our chickens were killed by a coyote in September did we discuss what was to become of our family. Both of us had heard of more and more people heading West. I myself have gotten several jobs repairing the conestoga wagons used by those who are resolved to head down the Oregon Trail as many folk are now naming it. The idea of acres and acres of land just waiting to be claimed appeals to the both of us, and after several days of discussion and prayer we too have decided to make this journey. I look forward to the prospect of moving to a new place with more oppurtunities. Abby longs for open lands like those she grew up on.
The children seem as excited as we are about this great adventure. William looks forward to helping me hunt and says he wants to meet some "redskins". I told him we don't say redskins, but native americans. Elizabeth is naturally not as excited as the boys are, but has been unhappy at school lately and welcomes the thought of change. As for Isaac-Albert, he has grown weary of local nicknames such as "demon possessed monster freak child" and "the one way wonder". He told us that just the other day when he asked Mr. Olsen at the general store for a peppermint stick, Mr. Olsen simply looked at him and said "God hates you". We both hung our heads, for we know it must be true. Abby and I are still unsure of what sin we must have committed to give birth to that.
From what we've gathered, it is unwise to leave before mid April. Leaving too early means that the oxen will have no grass to eat, and leaving too late means a near impossible passing of the mountains. Our planned date for now is to leave on April 26th (William's 11th birthday). That means we have four and a half months to gather supplies and make preparations. Abby and I will also be talking to other families in town that we feel would be valuable on the trail, to try and convince them to join our expedition. I feel the Plimpton's will be easy to convince. Henry and Catherine have lately seemed as incontent as we.