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It would ring out each Sabbath morning. In its rhythmic sway there was a harmonious sound which seemed to say, "Come, come, come." One does not have to turn the mind too far back to re-member the patriotic celebrations held on holidays. The stand and circling balcony were draped in red, white and blue bunting. Stirring addresses urged all to greater love for country. Three-day quarterly conferences were looked forward to, and counsel was given from the General Authorities visiting from Salt Lake City. As a modern worshipper, I will long remember the in-spiration drawn in this pioneer building on the Sabbath day. After each member was settled in his place, the door closed. A prayer was offered to invoke the Spirit of the Lord, then songs were sung for the occasion. Next a speaker or two would follow with words of inspiration and enlightenment. I could return home feeling that "a Sabbath well spent brings a week of content." All the babies of the ward for generations were brought to this building to receive names and blessings. Young and old hav received final rites before being laid to rest in a chosen cemetery. Kindly teachers for years have waited at the door for happy, restless, lively children to be called in to be taught moral lessons of life. They were "Sh, shd" into reverence before prayer was said. School graduation ceremonies have been conducted in this building where graduates were admonished to higher learning and achievements. This building was like most great people--poets, artists, composers--who are seldom appreciated until they are gone. I am quite sure the Moroni Tabernacle filled its pur-pose; destructive fire with whipping winds settled its useful-ness. I can imagine a challenge crying out from its ruin to us, "Can you and will you build as well, with the same intent of heart?" -106- |
