We’ll Find Room

By Trudy Fuhriman

Based on a true story

I love sister; she loves me (Children’s Songbook, page 198).

I may be small, but Mommy says that I’m a big help. I help her every day.

Sometimes I help her with the dishes. She gives them to me, and I put them in the cupboard. One day while we were doing the dishes, Mommy said, “Samuel, a new baby is coming to live in our house. You will have a new sister or brother.”

I looked at the cupboard. It was full of dishes. I said, “We can’t have a new baby. There’s no room for baby dishes.”

Mommy laughed. “We’ll find room,” she said.

Sometimes I help Mommy clean our three bedrooms. One is for her and Daddy. One is for Peter and Daniel. One is for Dawn and me. One day while we were cleaning the bedrooms, I said, “We can’t have a new baby. There’s no room for a baby bed.”

Mommy ruffled my hair. “We’ll find room,” she said.

Sometimes I help Mommy set the table. I set placemats and cups. Mommy sets the rest. We have six placemats and six chairs. One day while we were setting the table, I said, “We can’t have a new baby. There’s no room for a baby chair.”

Mommy gave me a hug. “We’ll find room,” she said.

On Sunday we go to church. I put on my pants and shoes. Daddy ties my shoes and buttons my shirt. We all get into the car and drive to church. Mommy and Daddy and I sit in the front seat. Dawn and Peter and Daniel sit in the backseat. One Sunday while we were driving to church, I said, “We can’t have another baby. There’s no room for a baby seat.”

Mommy put her arm around me. “We’ll find room,” she said.

At church I sit on Daddy’s lap. I try to be quiet. I fold my arms at prayer time and during the sacrament. Then I watch the people.

One Sunday while I was sitting on Daddy’s lap at church, I looked around the chapel. It was full of people. I whispered, “We can’t have a new baby. There’s no room in the chapel.”

Daddy smiled and whispered back, “Don’t worry, Samuel. We’ll find room.”

Yesterday the new baby came. She’s a girl. She’s tiny and not very pretty, and she cries. Mommy put her on my lap. She grabbed my finger and held on tight. I’m her big brother. Mommy looked at me and said, “Samuel, this is Eleanor. She has come to live in our family.”

“I know,” I said. “We’ll find room.”

Illustrated by Elise Black