I just had a thought today, while I listened to President Monson speak in the Conference Center-
Last time I was in the same room as the prophet, I was standing in the Atlanta temple, exhausted because it was early and I'd been in the cultural celebration the night before. I sat next to my friend Abbie and held my white handkerchief in my lap.
We heard a rip of laughter come from the back of the room, and turned around to see the prophet, who walked to the end of our row and extended a hand to Abbie- she shook it and he proceeded up the rows, till he left the room.
I was able to witness the dedication of a temple that, after many, many rehearsals for the production, a sacrificed senior prom, and three weeks worth of trips back and forth, bringing friends to see the inside, meant a great deal to me.
President Monson came back into the temple lobby following the dedication and this time, he shook my hand.
I feel like maybe it's appropriate to mention that when I wrote that post on Friday, about the cultural celebration, I had no idea that I'd hear him mention it yesterday in conference, or that I'd see him again today.
Missing it.
