Frances Monson

The world lost a wonderful lady on Friday. I thought I would pay my respects with this story:

 "The first day I saw Frances, I knew I'd found the right one. The Lord brought us together later, and I asked her to go out with me. I went to her home to call on her. She introduced me, and her father said, 

"Monson'-that's a Swedish name, isn't it?" I said, Yes." He said, "Good." Then he went into another room and brought out a picture of two missionaries with their top hats and their copies of the Book of Mormon. "Are you related to this Monson," he said, "Elias Monson?" I said, "Yes, he's my grandfather's brother. He too was a missionary in Sweden." Her father wept. He wept easily. He said, "He and his companion were the missionaries who taught the gospel to my mother and father and all of my brothers and sisters and to me." He kissed me on the cheek. And then her mother cried, and she kissed me on the other cheek. And then I looked around for Frances. She said, "I'll go get my coat"

(President Thomas S. Monson, "Abundantly Blessed," Ensign, May 2008, 111.)