Serendipity

My mom has a delightful cousin named Greg who has an equally delightful wife, Margie. Greg and Margie live in Oregon. They have come here on vacation and we were thrilled to meet up and have a late lunch this afternoon. My sister Debbie and I took our big girls on a shopping trip to the Gateway before we met Mom, Greg, and Margie at Little America. We originally thought we’d go somewhere else for lunch, but decided to just eat at the restaurant in Little America. While we were waiting for our table, I went to the bathroom. When I came out, the group had been seated. So I walked through the restaurant to the back corner where they were. The restaurant was quite void of patrons, just a couple tables had diners. As I walked to our table, I noticed a group at the table on the other side of the partition from us. I glanced over at them as I walked past. A group of ladies and two gentlemen were seated, visiting. I did a double take to make sure I saw them and to make sure that I wasn’t mistaken in thinking that one of the gentlemen was President Monson!

It was President Monson without a doubt! I sat down in my seat and excitedly whispered to Debbie, “It’s President Monson! That’s President Monson right there!” She looked, the girls looked, my mom looked. The lattice on top of the partition provided just the right spy holes to glance, hopefully unnoticed, at the beloved prophet of our church. Of course, the girls wanted to go right over and meet him. They were dying as we made them wait. I was just as excited as they were, but I didn’t want to interrupt anyone eating lunch. So we ordered our lunch and visited with Greg and Margie. Greg and Margie aren’t members of our church and were politely impressed with our incredible celebrity sighting. The girls kept peeking over at President Monson and at one point my niece Andria locked eyes with him. She was so excited! Her sister Lauren kept saying to Debbie, “Mom, when are we going over there? What if he leaves?” Finally, when it looked like President Monson’s party was finishing up their dessert, we went across the partition with the girls.

“President Monson,” I anxiously approached him, “We have a group of girls here that are dying to shake your hand.” He turned around and popped up energetically.

“Oh, we don't want anyone dying! Hello girls! What are your names?” He shook all our hands in turn. I was the last one. Kate shook his hand right before me and the tears welled up in my throat. I had the flash. The flash you get when the spirit testifies. The spirit pressed upon my heart for a split second so unmistakably, so strongly. This is the prophet of the Lord. Fortunately I was able to shove my tears back and tell him my name without blubbering or even faltering my voice.

Debbie mentioned there was something the girls wanted to ask him. Lauren was the assigned spokesperson, but nerves got the better of her. So Andria said, “We were wondering if you could wiggle your ears for us.”

He laughed heartily, “I only do that for priesthood holders,” referring to when he did it in the last priesthood session of conference. “But I’ll make an exception for you.” He pulled out a chair from the table and motioned to his bodyguard. At President Monson’s lively instruction, the bodyguard acted the part of the little boy in a story that the prophet previously shared during conference.

“You know, I was at a conference years ago and I noticed a little boy in the front row. I had my legs crossed this way,” he motioned to the bodyguard to cross his legs. “And the little boy did it too. So I crossed them the other way,” the bodyguard switched legs, “and the little boy crossed his that way too.”

He went on to tell how he touched his ear, pressed the side of his nose, and folded his arms. By this time, I was no longer watching the bodyguard, but listening to how the boy in the story copied all of the movements. “So then,” President Monson said to us, “I was out of things to do. So I wiggled my ears,” and he wiggled his ears for us! He can really wiggle them! They go up and down at least a couple of inches. We all laughed. I showed him how I can wiggle my ears, but not nearly as much as he can. He said I get a B for ear wiggling, but that John Huntsman can wiggle his ears one at a time!

President Monson was so very gracious and loving. He introduced us to his sweet wife. He introduced us to his secretaries that were eating with him. One of his secretaries is our friend Jared Fawson’s aunt. I made that connection with her and she said to tell Jared hi. (Hi from your aunt, Jared!) Debbie had her camera and we got our picture taken with President Monson. (I'll post them as soon as I get them!) The prophet visited and laughed with us a bit more and then we parted.

When I was driving home today I kept thinking of how the Savior always welcomed everyone. The apostles wanted Him to rest, but He let the children come unto Him. I felt a tiny bit of that today. President Monson didn’t act disturbed in the least by our interruption. I’m sure he gets this all the time. And I’m sure it is an effort to not be bothered by all of the people wanting to meet him and talk with him. But if that’s the case, we would have never known it today. He was happy, he was welcoming, and we felt truly loved. He didn’t preach a sermon with words, but his manner was lesson enough. Thanks, President Monson.

I love my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I know President Monson is called of God. I have a testimony of the Savior, Jesus Christ. It feels a little strange writing a testimony on a blog, but my experience today demands nothing less.