What is the funniest thing that has ever happened to you? You might ask, “From whose point of view?” My experience has been that what is funny to me is not necessarily so humorous to my dearly beloved husband. Nevertheless, just to be sporting, I will relate the following story that, I must confess, was not very funny to me at the time.

My husband, who is a minister, was in a revival meeting which was quite a distance from our home. So far away, in fact, that we were compelled to spend the night in the community where the church was located. In those days it was customary for individual families of the church to provide accommodations for the visiting evangelist.

On the first night of the revival meeting, we had food and fellowship at the church following the evening service. It was quite late by the time it was all over. A very nice family, whom I had never met before, invited us to come home with them to spend the night. Having no other alternative, we graciously accepted.

It was only a short drive from the church to the home of our host. Then gathering our baggage from the car, we followed our new friends into the house. Due to the lateness of the hour, we did not linger in the living area but went directly to bed. We went through the kitchen, down the hall and into the guest bedroom. At the time, our oldest son, Brad, was a baby and still took a bottle. So, as I passed through the kitchen, I placed his extra bottle inside the refrigerator.

Despite the unfamiliar surroundings my husband and I had no trouble falling asleep. We were both totally exhausted.

In the wee hours of the morning, I was awakened by the baby’s crying. Dragging myself awake I groped around for his pacifier and stuck it into him mouth. He refused to be “pacified”, however, and I realized right away that he had to have “the real thing”.

I knew that everyone else in the house was as exhausted as I. With this in mind I was determined to cause as little disturbance as possible on my mission to retrieve the bottle for the baby that I had left in the refrigerator. By this time my husband was awake, so he said he would try to keep the baby quiet until I returned with the bottle.

There must have been a new moon that night because an inky blackness greeted me as I opened the door of the bedroom. I did not turn on the light for fear that it would awaken someone, and I hoped to make the trip to the kitchen and back unnoticed. Not even the faint light of a star came through a window to illuminate my path. I had to depend entirely on my instinct for navigation.

My bare feet did not make a sound on the cool hardwood floor. As I groped along the wall, I thought back over the route we had taken through the house upon our arrival. “Let me see. It was down the hall and through the door at the end. That was the kitchen. I distinctly remember.”

I slid my hands soundlessly along the wall searching for the doorway at the end of the hall. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, my hand came to rest on the door jam. I felt for the doorknob and as quietly as possible I opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.

The switch made a faint click as I flipped it. The room was instantly flooded with light. Almost immediately after the click I heard a startled, “Huh?” from somewhere in the room. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized with horror that I was standing in the middle of the bedroom of my gracious host and hostess. There they sat bolt upright in bed looking questioningly in my direction.

Standing there in my bare feet, much more startled than they, I muttered some kind of apology and made a hasty departure. This time my path down the hall was illuminated by my face, radiant with humiliation.

My husband had been listening intently to make sure I made it safely to the kitchen and back in the dark. When I arrived back in the sanctuary of my room, I found my him rolling around on the floor in a fit of scarcely muffled laughter. In a low hissing voice, I proceeded to explain to him that it was not at all funny and that we should get up and leave immediately.

We did not leave, however. Somehow, I managed to calm myself and get some semblance of sleep before the morning. At breakfast I was very careful to act naturally and never brought up the incident of the night before. Evidently my host and hostess thought it had all been a nightmare caused by our late fellowship, because they never mentioned it either.

After so many years I still shudder to think what might have happened had I not turned on the light. If I had just blindly searched for the refrigerator.