The following story did not actually take place. Nor would it have happened in real life. At least not in a literal way.
On a beautiful Sunday afternoon at my parent's home in Utah we arrived home from Stake Conference. It was such a nice day the neighbors were all bustling about out on the neighborhood streets. My family and I walked into our home, opened all the doors and windows to the outside and then quite lazily came together in the living room in front of the TV. We loved our Sunday night movies.
A knock came to the door, we were all completely stunned when the person standing there was Thomas S. Monson. The actual Prophet of our church. We invited him in. He announced casually that he'd like to pay us a visit as he was in the area. He sat on our couch and proceeded to quietly watch television with us.
We were all just shocked and a bit nervous as he sat there with us watching Sunday night movies. We didn't say much to him as the time passed but he seemed happy enough. I'd decided that I should get my camera to take a picture of the prophet in my home. This didn't happen every day! My sister and I were sitting on the floor in front of him. When I tried to get up to grab my camera my sister wouldn’t let me! She kept holding me down and picking on me. We started fighting with each other. It was so irritating!
Finally, I got away and sprinted through the house into the basement to retrieve my camera. I got to my room and it was dark. Too dark to see anything. I tried to switch on the light but it wouldn't work. The power was out!?? Then I noticed the floors. They were covered in water! The basement had flooded?? I started yelling! DAD! DAD! DAD! As I ran upstairs to tell my Dad about the flood, I realized that the upstairs was soaked and the power was out up there too! Water was gushing out of the walls all around. I ran to the living room where the prophet had been sitting a moment earlier and was devastated to find that he had gone. I missed my opportunity.
My Mom was sorry I'd missed him and trying to be helpful, she said, "Maybe he just went to visit the next house down the street? You might still catch him if you go look."
I ran out the door furiously and looked in both directions down the street. Calling out a few times, "President Monson!?" I realized that was a strange thing to scream through the neighborhood. Then I noticed a large gathering of neighbors and ward members around the corner setting up chairs and a podium for a speaker. I went to them and asked, "Who is coming here to speak?" A lady I knew replied, "It's one of the Quorum of the 70!! We're so excited!"
I was confused. How had the prophet just shown up at my home and disappeared a moment ago? Nobody else had been lucky enough to even see him. We had been so lucky to have him in our house where we could have talked to him about anything, but we missed our opportunity... I felt ashamed and completely disappointed for taking that for granted.
And then I woke up.
It was 3 am and I'd had another intense lesson learned through a dream.
I love those nights.
