Jamie’s Talk

By Ann Wing

Pray unto the Father (Moro. 7:48).

When Jamie’s mommy came to get him from his Star A class, he was very excited. “I’m giving a talk in Primary next Sunday.”

“That’s wonderful,” said Mommy. “You ask Daddy to help you.”

While Mother fixed dinner, Daddy helped Jamie think about what to say. That evening, Mommy helped him practice the words.

On Monday Jamie practiced as he swung back and forth in the swing. On Tuesday he practiced while he shoveled sand from the sand pile into his dump truck.

He even practiced in front of the mirror in the bathroom at night before he went to bed.

Later in the week, he gave his talk to his best friend, Grandpa Strong.

“Good talk,” Grandpa told him.

Jamie’s sister, Ann, listened to his talk while she curled her hair. “Nice job,” she said.

On Saturday Jamie said his talk to the dog while she was sleeping in a patch of sunlight. I know every word now, Jamie thought. I’m ready to give my talk tomorrow.

In the morning, Jamie put on his blue pants and white shirt and pink bow tie and blue jacket. In Primary he sat on a seat behind the pulpit and listened to the prayer and scripture reading.

Sister Dodson said, “Jamie will give his talk now.”

Jamie stood at the pulpit. His mommy and daddy sat in the back of the room and smiled at him. All the other children looked at him. Then something happened: When Jamie started to say the words, nothing came out of his mouth! He tried to think, but all he could think of was that he had forgotten his talk. Big tears came to his eyes. He stood there and didn’t know what to do.

Then he saw Daddy come toward him. Daddy knelt down beside him and put his arm around him and told him the first words of the talk. Jamie started to remember the rest of his talk. With Daddy’s arm firmly around him, Jamie said every word.

After Sharing Time, lots of people told him that he had given a good talk. Jamie felt good. He had tried hard all by himself, and with Daddy’s help, Jamie had given his first talk.

After church Jamie took Daddy’s hand. “Thanks for helping me,” he said.

Daddy squeezed his hand. “You know, Jamie, when I get stuck I ask my special Father to help me. I can depend on His help. Do you know Whom I’m talking about?”

Jamie smiled. “Heavenly Father.”

“That’s right, son. Heavenly Father will always be there to help you.”

Illustrated by Phyllis Luch