We all have to say something about our New Year's resolutions don't we? So here's mine—
In 2013 I resolve to eat all the peppermints that were given to me during the 2012 Christmas season.
Oh, and, I will finish reading Ivanhoe during this year!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Moments in the Tabernacle
I was in the tabernacle a few days ago. I’d gone to sit with
the standby crowd hoping to get into the Christmas concert across the street at
the conference center. When I didn’t get into the concert proper, I decided to
stay and enjoy the live feed into the tabernacle. I moved from my bench beneath
the overhang and took an aisle seat out in the open where even the piped sound
would be better.
Alfie Boe’s first number was “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.”
One of my favorite carols. And with a power singer? Wow.
And then, of course, came the opening night banter and
Alfie’s gently northern accent made me heave a sigh and remember all the voices
and tones I loved in England. A little later the dancing number began
and my mind started to wander as I pondered the moments that have meant so much
to me in that hall.
I was sitting in the south balcony the day I was privileged
to attend a solemn assembly and sustain a newly called prophet. And again I was
in the south balcony that day when friends had phoned just before a general
conference session to say they had a couple extra tickets, did we want to come?
Oh yeah! But it was the north balcony when I attended, all by myself, one of
the first concerts in the rededication series. It was summer and magical as the
light faded and the spirit of the evening swelled. One of the hymns was written by President James E. Faust and the credits said that Jan Pinborough had work with him on it. Two ties to Texas in one hymn. On the night I heard Bryn
Terfel and the Choir sing the Elijah oratorio I was on the floor near the back.
So I sat, gazing at the lighted boughs and remembered. And
thought of my grandmother sitting up in those empty choir seats when she sang
with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I was never in the tabernacle with my Grandmother
Cora or Great-grandma Jane, but I know they spent many hours here too—as had my parents. I
wondered at how many of ancestors had been in this same place and learned the
same lessons of the gospel, felt the Spirit of the Holy Ghost. I was connected
to this place in ways I knew and ways I didn’t.
So there I was gazing around at the festive decorations and
listening with half an ear to the festive music when, two rows in front of
me, a man and his little girl stood up to leave. It was Sharp—a mission friend. He
walked right up my aisle; I reached for his hand. They sat down and we chatted for sixty seconds. It was sweet to see him with his lovely daughter and knowing he
was still my friend in the gospel was sweeter still. Another moment in my history in the
tabernacle.
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