When I was a teenager, I went to the dedication of the Houston Texas temple. Shortly before the event, word spread that President Hinckley himself was coming to do the dedication. We were so surprised and touched, and I was thrilled to think I'd be in the same building as the prophet. We were seated in one of the rooms, waiting to watch the actual ceremony on a closed-circuit television. We started hearing whisperings that President Hinckley was going to walk by on his way to the actual room, so we were all craning our necks to see if we could possibly get a glimpse of him. Suddenly, there was a gasp and then a hush, and President Hinckley stepped into the room and waved at everyone. He smiled, looked around, and then stepped back out to continue to his room. We all sat there stunned at what we'd just experienced, when he walked through the door on the other side of the room and smiled at everyone seated there. I personally was right next to the door and made eye contact with him for a few seconds and was just hit with the most powerful feeling of love that seemed to emanate from him. When the dedication was over, he stopped by twice more on his way out just to wave and smile at everyone.
He could've easily walked down the hall, conducted his business, and left, thinking that it would be too hard or too meaningless to see every person for just a few seconds. But I was so touched at his love and understanding of what that would mean to all of us.
The other thing I've been thinking about since I heard the news was the reunion he must have had with his wife Marjorie, who died in 2004. In everything he did, the love they shared was obvious. In his talk, "To the Women of the Church," given in 2003, he said,
"I look upon my dear wife, soon to be 92 years of age. Her hair is white; her frame is stooped.
I take one of her hands in mine and look at it. Once it was so beautiful, the flesh firm and clear. Now it is wrinkled and a little bony and not very strong. But it speaks of love and constancy and faith, of hard work through the years. Her memory is not what it once was. She can remember things that happened half a century ago but may not remember what happened half an hour ago. I am like that, too.
But I am so grateful for her. For 66 years we have walked together, hand in hand, with love and encouragement, with appreciation and respect. It cannot be very long before one of us will step through the veil. I hope the other will follow soon. I just would not know how to get along without her, even on the other side, and I would hope that she would not know how to get along without me."
This excerpt just happened to be read in our meeting today, so I was thinking about how hard it has been on him with her gone. Now they are together, and no one who knows their love story can doubt what a joyous reunion it was.I'm grateful for his life, his love, and his example.
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