A Bump In The Night

My father tells of one experience in which the prophet taught him a practical lesson late one night as he entered the Beehive House.
Again quoting from my father's life history:

"I walked with guarded steps through the office, then into the private study to the door at the foot of the steps that led to my bedroom.
But the door would not open.
I pushed and I pushed to no avail.
Finally I gave up and went back to to a rug that I had noticed in the hall with the intention of sleeping there until morning.

"In the darkness I bumped against another partially opened door and the collision awakened the prophet.
He turned on the light and, seeing who it was, came down the stairway and inquired concerning my difficulty.

"The door is locked that leads to my room,' I explained.
He went to the door and pulled instead of pushed, and the door opened.
Had he been disturbed by my foolish blunder I would not have been surprised, for I had robbed him of a precious night's sleep by a thoughtless act.
He only smiled and stopped to inquire of a strange stable boy what I had stumbled into.
I pointed to the half open door at the other end of the hall.

"'Let me show you something.'
He took time at midnight to explain, 'When in the dark never go groping with hands parted and outstretched; that permits doors to get by your guard and hit you.
Keep your arms in front, but hands together; then you will feel with your hands and not your head.'
I thanked him and moved to my quarters.
He waited until I reached the rear stairway and then he retired."

Isn't a prophet someone who teaches us to open doors we could not open ourselves--doors to greater light and truth?
Isn't a prophet like a pair of hands clasped together in front of the body of the Church, helping members navigate through the dark corridors of the world?
Isn't a prophet someone who watches and waits for us patiently while we get to where we need to be?

L. Tom Perry -Heed the Prophet's Voice -October 1994 General Conference

Until you next read these words;
I'll be watching the leaves.
Enjoy the day!

-Sarnic Dirchi

The Dream

I don't remember much of it, beyond that it made me really emotional, and it's been hanging over my head all day. The basics of the dream, was that I was some sort of...slave I guess, as I didn't want to do this. of this mad wizard. who's entire goal in life was to kill all the dragons. -these dragons looked a lot like the dinosaurs. Triceratops, Long necks, duck bills, etc. Most of them with wings. And he wanted them all dead. And he was forcing me, one at a time, to cut into their flesh with a knife, at a point where it would instantly kill them. -It was like cutting the wrists, the back of the neck, etc. Just one slice against the flesh and the dragon would die. It was breaking my heart as I turned to the last of the last. It was a dragon with a broken wing, he was blue in color and he was basically the king of the dragons. The first among firsts, now the last to die. I held him in my hands. The blade at the ready, sobbing quietly as the knife moved towards his neck....

when the unholy tones of daylight pulled me away....
and I became myself again. :)

-S.N.D