When I went to see that old saint Brother Bosworth, when we heard he was dying, eighty-something years old... The wife and I going down to--there to see him before he died, I just had to say something to him. I like to watch saints when they're entering glory. And I had to see him. And we burnt the tires off of the car.
But when I got there and rushed into the door, in the little corner laid that old patriarch. He raised his head up when he seen me coming, his old feeble arms hung out with the flesh hanging down, and he reached his arms for me. And I grabbed him around the neck and screamed, "My Father, my Father, the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof." For he was a sainted godly man.
And I said, "Brother Bosworth, I want to ask you something. Do you believe that you'll get well?"
He said, "Why, I'm not even sick."
I said, "Well, what's the matter?"
He said, "I'm going home." He said, "I'm tired, and I'm wore out; and I just want to go home."
I said, "Then you realize you're dying?" I said, "I want to ask you something. Back down through the seventy-some-odd years of ministry, what has been your most glorious minute? Could you speak to me, sir, and tell me what experience you had down along the line that you could count your greatest hour?"

If I shall live to see his age, I'd never forget, as those dark eyes caught me over the top of those glasses. He said, "My dear brother, this is the greatest moment of my life. I can't think of any time that was any more glorious than right now."
I looked him in the face, and I said, "Sir, do you still know that you're dying?"
He said, "Brother Branham, I'm laying here waiting every minute for Him to open that door and come take me home with Him."
That's the way to die. That's the way to go. And as you know, that about two hours before he died, he was--been laying in a coma for over two days. And when he come to himself, he raised up in the room, and begin to speak to his wife. Then all of a sudden, he seemed to be transparent. And he was--shook hands for a solid hour or more, with friends who's been dead for forty or fifty years, who was his converts in his church, shook hands with his mother and with his daddy until he was--life was left his body. Laid down on the pillow and went to sleep in the arms of the Lord Jesus. There's nothing like serving Him, expecting Him.

William Branham, Sermon "Who Is This?"
https://en.branham.ru/sermons/59-0510E‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌