PHOTO ESSAY

It is the tradition during the first session of a temple dedication for the Prophet, Apostles and other General Authorities to emerge through the temple doors, dressed in white, and seal the cornerstone.

It is often a moment of friendly banter between the prophet and the crowd, so eager to have a few personal moments with him, and a time when everything he says seems to delight the hushed crowd.

So, in a golden, spring morning Friday, March 20, in the first of twelve dedicatory sessions, President Thomas S. Monson, President Henry B. Eyring, President Boyd K. Packer, Elder William R. Walker, accompanied by the new temple presidency and their wives, came out into the bright sunlight amid a sea of cameras and people craning for a good look.

He told Elder Walker, who directs the temple department, “Don’t spill on your white suit.”

“The mortar is ready,” President Monson smiled. “The trowels are ready. Those who will use them are not trained,” and then began a funny coaching job as he personally invited people to come up, take up a trowel and add a bit of mud to the joint.

First President Monson invited Lynne Cannegieter, his secretary for 45 years, and her husband Bill, to put in a small dab of mortar, which is a more ungainly job than you would suspect. “Now, that’s all right. That’s good enough,” President Monson said.

For many years, in an effort to infuse the hearts of the children with the promises of the temple, the prophet has called up a child to put in one of the first daubs of mortar, or mud as it is called, scanning over the crowd and gesturing to one to come up and join him. The invitation to the children is issued before the adults from the crowd have their turn.

Later as President Boyd K. Packer, came up trowel in hand, President Monson, said, “You’re the professional. When someone else dropped a bit of the mortar, he joked, “That’s happened before; don’t worry.”

President Monson is known by those who work with him as the exemplary administrator, able to keep several secretaries busy at once, but far more characteristic is his uncanny ability to be attentive and encouraging to people one at a time. This was so apparent as he focused on individuals in the crowd.

He asked Gerry Avant, editor of The Church News, to add some mortar and invited Becky Alexander, who directed the youth choir to come up and advised as he handed her the trowel, “Just pretend it’s a baton.”