Just as the early Saints, our wagons lined up on Parley Street. The early Saints would have been waiting to load their wagons onto the ferry, or when the river froze completely over, to drive their teams across the river. It gave me a great sense of awe. I started whistling, "Hope of Israel rise in might" because the words caught in my throat and I couldn't sing, but I rejoiced in great love for these beloved Saints. We knew, as the Nauvoo Pageant line says, "When you're here, we're here." They were here this morning.