My first experience of seeing President Monson in person is one that I'll never forget. He wasn't the Prophet back then, but a counselor in the First Presidency. I was attending the Mission Training Center in Provo, Utah in preparation to serve a two-year mission for my church. In a large gymnasium with hundreds of folding chairs set on the hardwood, the room was filled with a couple thousand missionaries, such as myself, chatting away and creating quite a din.
We knew that President Monson would be our speaker, although no one had yet caught a glimpse of him. As a background to the cacophonous echo of voices, an organ played sweet prelude music.
Then at once, as if going from 60 to zero in less than a second, the room turned silent.
The arena was so large that I couldn't see what was happening. Then, from the far side of the gymnasium, I noticed that President Monson and his men had entered and were now making their way toward the front. Everyone by now had lifted from their seats and stood in reverence. You could have heard the proverbial drop of a pin.
There was also a feeling that had entered the room, a sentiment of respect and love. Within my soul I knew this was no ordinary man, but one called of God.
I don't recall the subject which President Monson spoke to us during that meeting in 1992, but the spirit I felt as he entered the room was so powerful that to this day I haven't forgotten.
Thomas Spencer Monson would eventually become the 16th Prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. During his service as President and Apostle he would become revered by millions of Mormons who looked to his example of service and Christ-like charity. This past week, President Monson passed away at the age of ninety. I have spent a lot of time reflecting on this amazing man.
President Monson is known for his attention to “the one.” There are countless personal stories of service to widows and those in need. If he felt a prompting to help someone, he would leave immediately and act upon that feeling. He visited hundreds of patients in hospitals and would be known to literally give a needy person the coat from his back. He lifted the downtrodden. One has to wonder how many untold stories are out there.
A few years after my mission I married into a family that had personal connections with President Monson. My grandfather-in-law, Howard Smith, was Vice-President of Beneficial Life, a company owned by the church. Consequently, he had monthly meetings with certain church leaders. They became personal acquaintances and he called them on a first-name basis. He told a story of pulling into a gas station at the same time as Gordon Hinkley and carrying on a conversation across the pump.
When my wife's parents got married, Howard told them they could choose anyone they'd like to perform the ceremony, and he would check availability. They chose the young Apostle, Elder Monson. Howard had no problems asking his personal friend, Tom, to officiate their marriage in the Salt Lake Temple.
By the time I entered the family, Howard had long been retired, and those weekly communications with church leaders were a thing of the past. Many of the people he had once dealt with, such as Ezra Taft Benson, had now passed away. Although, he and his wife, Joe Ann, enjoyed telling us that every Christmas they still received a Christmas card from Tom Monson.
In June of 2010, Howard Smith passed away. The visitation and service were held at the mortuary in Bountiful, Utah. President Monson, who at that time was the Prophet and on a very tight schedule, had taken time to call Joe Ann (affectionately known to us as Grammy) a few days earlier to express sympathy and support. Now, the burning question for all of us was whether or not he would show up at the funeral. After all, it had been over two decades since their weekly correspondence, and being a man in his position, he had met thousands of people over the years.
The visitation portion of the funeral was winding down and the family sat and visited in the same room where friends stood in line to offer condolences to Howard's widow, and to pass the closed casket. At the moment when most of us had decided that President Monson wouldn't show up, or had forgotten about the possibility, I spotted the Prophet in the hallway near the entrance with a couple other men (probably his body guards).
Suddenly there was tapping on shoulders and whispering and all of us turned our attention to the tall man in a gray suit. He had no intentions of jumping to the front of the line, but all who were waiting insisted that he go right ahead. Of course, he stopped to shake their hands along the way.
As he made his way to Grammy, he gave her an embrace and for the next fifteen minutes the two visited, with a sprinkling of laughter thrown in. Toward the end the mood turned serious again and I watched the Prophet whisper words into Grammy's ear. (I later learned that he was reading a letter from the First Presidency.)
We were all in anticipation as to what he would do after the visit with Grammy, as he would be making his way toward us. As he approached Taylor, my 13-year old nephew, he pulled him in and told him that his red hair reminded him of the boy that sat on the front row of a conference and mimicked everything he did.
He broke out of that group, moving in our direction, and looked at my 4-year old daughter, Savanah. “I want to talk to this angel.” He lowered down and she ran straight into his arms. “What's your name?” he asked.
“Savanah!”
“Oh, that's Southern. Who is that girl right there?”
“That's my Aunt Teresa.”
He then turned to Brittany, who was 11 at the time. “What's your name?”
“Brittany.” He shook her hand, and then asked Kaitlyn the same thing and shook her's also.
Then he turned to Jenna. “I'll tell you a secret.” He leaned down and lowered his voice just a bit. “Yellow is my favorite color,” and gestured toward her yellow dress and hair-bow. Then he drew her in and hugged her, pulling her back toward his chest and wrapping his arm around the front of her body.
When he let her go President Monson asked, “Are all of these your sisters?” Kaitlyn responded that three were. Then he snapped back, “That guy over there is not your sister?”
That put a smile on their face and Savanah was quick to say, “No, he's my dad. His name is John.” That's when I stood and shook the Prophet's hand. It felt soft, slightly cold (in temperature) and loose-skinned.
As he finished with those of us immediately around him, his body guard grabbed his arm to hurry him along when Savanah ran toward him, seizing his attention once again. “Hey, do you know that song,
Follow the Prophet?” she asked him.
Stooping down and looking her square in the face, he wiggled his ears and replied with a slow, “Yeees.”
Then, with her full body following her hand, she pointed right at the Prophet and said, “So, we're supposed to follow YOU, right?”
“That's right,” he answered with a smile.
President Monson continued moving around the room, and thinking quickly, Jenelle (my wife) and Jordan (my son) did also. They were seated with us, but on the far side of the room from where the Prophet stood. Strategically they positioned themselves near the door, and with a nudging push from his mother, Jordan was face to face with President Monson. “Hey, Pink Shirt,” he said. He grabbed Jordan's hand, then pulled him in and gave a one-armed embrace. “I like pink.”
Then he shook hands with Jenelle, completing our family. Five minutes later he was out the door and gone. He did not stay for the actual funeral, but his showing up displayed that he cared.
My overall impression was that President Monson was very Christ-like. He undoubtedly was “willing to mourn with those that mourn,” and was very attentive to the little children. He was very personable. It was certainly an experience that we would never forget.
The only other time I saw President Thomas S. Monson in person was at the 2015 General Conference held on Easter morning. By this time, the old man had grown feeble. As he stood at the pulpit he spoke with a pale complexion and sometimes slurred speech. From our seat on the balcony of the Conference Center we were at such a great distance that I had to watch the jumbo screen to see his facial features.
He spoke only eleven minutes, in which time he announced three new temples, including one in Bangkok, Thailand. He then taught of the blessings and peace that come from attending the temple. He then ended his short sermon doing that which he had done for over fifty years—testifying of Jesus Christ:
“May our Heavenly Father bless us that we may have the spirit of temple worship, that we may be obedient to His commandments, and that we may follow carefully the footsteps of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I testify that He is our Redeemer. He is the Son of God. He it is who came forth from the grave that first Easter morning, bringing with Him the gift of everlasting life for all of God's children. On this beautiful day, as we celebrate that momentous event, may we offer prayers of gratitude for His great and marvelous gift to us. That this may be so, I pray humbly in His holy name, amen.” ♥
Phranang Cave, named after the Goddess of Love, is a shrine located on the beach. For generations, local people, fisherman, and navigators have left offerings to the Goddess (or Princess), that she might protect their livelihood and fulfill their wishes. In addition to flowers and incense, votees often leave a lingam gift, which is a phallus carved in wood. It is believed that this will bring fertility.
