In 1939, when John Steinbeck published "The Grapes of Wrath," folksinger Woody Guthrie wrote a long song detailing the entire plot. When asked why he didn't just let people get the plot from the book, he said not everyone could get the book. But they just might hear the song.

I felt the same way last week after spending part of an evening with President Gordon B. Hinckley.

By the luck of the draw, my wife and I ended up sitting next to President Hinckley at the annual Deseret Morning News Board of Directors Holiday Dinner. It was a lively — and often touching — experience. At one point, I wished I could divide the time up into little segments and let all our readers spend a moment there. But that wasn't possible.

So I will play the role of Woody Guthrie.

You couldn't be there for the event, but maybe this little "song" will reach you.

It was a night of table talk filled with many topics — ranging from Bolivia to Mark Twain and back again. At one point the conversation turned to high school. I asked President Hinckley if he'd played sports. He said, "no." I asked if he performed in high school plays. "No," he said. I asked what he'd done in high school.

There was a twinkle. "I went to school," he said.

He said someone recently sent him his old Greek and Shakespeare textbooks from his college years. We talked about music. And when I asked how he developed his affection for the song "Danny Boy," the tone of the evening turned. He told of being a young missionary in an Irish port. A troubadour — a street musician — was singing there for tips. He was singing "Danny Boy." President Hinckley said he's enjoyed the song ever since. He said his mission gave him a love for old English hymns like "Lead, Kindly Light" and "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" — hymns that remain his favorites to this day.

We spoke about his hymn in the LDS hymnal and his other writing. I asked how many copies "Standing for Something" had sold. He honestly didn't know.

I asked if he planned to write another book. He said he'd been approached, but wondered if he could spare the energy. He spoke of the changing world and our changing times — about the new Hispanic presence in the United States and the growing power of Asian nations in the world.

When my wife mentioned how much the young people of the church loved him, he talked about how kind people could be.

When I mentioned Africa, he talked about how he'd like to mingle more with the people, but his "baby sitters" (security staff) wouldn't allow it.

He seemed at home in the world.

As the meal wound down and he prepared to leave, my wife mentioned how good the food had been.

That's when he pointed to the chocolate cake near her plate. Then came the twinkle.

"The best," he said to her, "is yet to come."

And that, in the end, is my song. I wish you could have been there. I hope this column gives you a taste.

As for me, I now have a new motto. In fact, I think it is how I will remember President Hinckley. The eternal optimist — literally eternal — who will always bow in reverence, but never in defeat.

A man whose departing words to us were through a smile.

"The best is yet to come."

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E-MAIL: jerjohn@desnews.com