Sunday, October 7, 2012
Since she was tiny, #7 has had a thing for Thomas S. Monson, the President and prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
When she was old enough, I would direct her in prayer to pray for him by name. As we would kneel by her bed, I would guide her through all the words of her prayer. She would diligently repeat my words, but when I'd say, "Please bless President Monson," she would break from her obedience, open her eyes, unfold her arms, and neglect to say those words altogether. She would immediately and excitedly blurt out, "I know him!" Every single time, this was the case. I'd work to pull her back into prayer, and we'd close the prayer at that point. The reverence was broken.
Today, we watched General Conference. The last speaker for this morning's session was none other than President Thomas S. Monson. We all sat and laid quietly to watch and listen. Prior to this, #7 had been laying quietly next to me, wrapped in her "Tinterbell." When she saw him approach the podium, as if she'd held her quiet as long as she could, she excitedly announced, "Hey! He's my friend. It's President Monson! I love him."
How does she know, instinctively, that this man, a man she's never met, is worthy of her love? She must feel as I do. It's somehow easy to love those that we know love us.