“Making a New Friend,” Liahona, Feb. 2002, 10–11
Making a New Friend
Mom brushed my hair softly and finished parting it before she caught my gaze in the mirror.
“You look awfully grumpy this morning,” Mom said cheerily to my reflection.
“That’s because I am grumpy,” I replied, scrunching up my face so my lower lip stuck out in a frown.
Mom turned me around and knelt in front of me, looking me in the eye. “You will make friends in this ward. Don’t worry!”
“But, Mom, I liked our old ward! I liked my old friends! Why did we have to move anyway?” I felt tears sting my eyes.
“Because of Daddy’s job!” a voice piped in helpfully.
My younger sister, Alison, peeked into the bathroom from the hallway. She smiled her biggest smile—so big it showed the gaps where she was missing her two front teeth and made her eyes disappear into little half-moons. I scowled at her.
“That’s right,” Mom said to her. Alison beamed.
“But I don’t have any friends here!” I said to Mom, ignoring my sister.
“You’ve still got me!” Alison said. I looked at her and saw that she was grinning at me.
“Great.” I rolled my eyes.
She frowned for a few seconds and then said, “We’re best friends!” She ran off laughing before I could shout back at her that we were not.
Later that day as I looked at the people in sacrament meeting, I didn’t know even one person in this new ward. My family had been here for only a few days. Please, Heavenly Father, I prayed, can’t I make just one new friend today?
I was nervous when sacrament meeting ended and my parents took us to our Primary classes. During class I sat alone and didn’t say anything.
When my class got up to go to the Primary room for sharing time, I was scared. I clutched my scriptures tightly as I walked down the hall. The Primary room was bright and cheery, and there were lots of children there. The pianist was playing a song I had learned in my old ward. I felt a little better.
But as I looked around, I realized I couldn’t find my class. I didn’t know where they had gone, and I didn’t have anyone to sit by. I glanced around the room again, biting my lower lip nervously and holding my scriptures tightly against my chest.
Then, from the corner of the room, a little girl started grinning and waving her hands at me. She was pointing to a seat next to her. I smiled back at her and rolled my eyes. She smiled her biggest smile—so big it showed the gaps where she was missing her two front teeth and made her eyes disappear into little half-moons.
This little girl had rescued me. She was the friend Heavenly Father had sent for me. She immediately made me feel welcome when I sat down—as though I had known her for years.
That day I decided that sisters are best friends.
Illustrations by Roger Motzkus