Today I dressed in my Sunday best and went to the Stake Center to attend the funeral of Gordon B. Hinckley. On Friday in a telephone conversation with a good friend, she stated that she had to get something done that I had requested by that evening because she had a funeral to go to on Saturday morning. She wanted to dress and go to the funeral of her prophet, just like she would for a loved one. With that kernal of a thought on my mind it suddenly came to me, if the young people of the church could choose to honor their dear prophet by dressing in their Sunday best for school, then surely I could honor him by attending his funeral in my Sunday best. It was a good choice. It was reverent and peaceful and so touching. Not many were in attendance at the chapel, but they were quiet and respectful. They stood as his coffin came into the conference center followed by his family and they stood again as he left. I didn't think of this as a sad occasion, but my heart broke when the empty chair between Elder Monson and Elder Eyring appeared on the big screen. I realized then that he would not be at General Conference ever again. He had really left this mortal life.The "B's" sampler hangs in my living room. It has always been one of the more simple, but most profound sermons of President Hinckley; a clear and easy blueprint for our walk through this life. A blueprint for a walk which he modeled for us everyday of his life. Thank you, President Hinckley.
