Epilogue

It was a warm spring day, the ground around the hill a riot of wildflowers. The flowers had been sparse the first spring, but dozens and dozen of children and far more of their parents, had come and spread seeds. That had been the first year. This year, people had come from all over to spread seeds, and not just members of the Faith.

I walked with one hand holding Wife Ellie's, the other holding Wife Susan's. Susan had her son on her other side, toddling along. His sister was in her arms, as was our daughter in Ellie's.

The party stopped and looked up the hill. "This is ... magnificent," Ellie whispered. "There are no words grand enough for the place."

"I don't know," I told her, "the Temple of Memory is pretty good."

Rose came hurtling down the path at a breakneck pace. The altitude no longer seemed to bother her.

"Brother David, Sister Ellie, Sister Susan. I am an usher today and I will guide you to your seats."

Ellie grinned. "We've come to see the Light, Sister."

Rose grinning impishly. "There is tomorrow, Sister Ellie. A lot of tomorrows. Today is a special day for seeing the Light."

She led us up the winding walkway. Even looking for it, the Temple of Memories was hard to see, even when you were looking at it. It blended incredibly well with the mountain. It was, so I'd been told, not nearly as imposing as it would be when the Temple was complete. This building was the sanctuary -- the place where those of the Faith came to worship -- and remember.

At the door a party of Elders and others waited, to shake the hands of the congregants. The first of those was a young man named Stephen, who stepped forward, ignoring my outstretched hand and hugged me. "Brother David."

"Brother Stephen, this is a magnificent edifice. A true tribute to your sister."

"It wouldn't existed without you, Brother David. I probably wouldn't have existed without you." He hugged me again, and I did shake his hand.

Not much later a thousand voices were raised in song; the truest sign of the magnificence that was God -- that man could combine together and produce something that none of them could do by themselves.