The Friend would like to hear from you about an experience you, or another child you know, have had in “Trying to Be Like Jesus Christ.” The article should be about two to three pages typed and double spaced; a parent or other adult may help you write it. Please include at least one photograph or slide of whomever the article is about, if possible, and his or her name, age, address, telephone number, and ward/branch and stake/district. Send your article to: “Trying to Be Like Jesus Christ,” Friend, 23rd floor, 50 East North Temple, Salt Lake City, Utah 84150-3226. Unused submissions will be returned if a stamped, addressed envelope is enclosed.
Me, Living Like Jesus?
One week my mother told me that it was my turn to give a talk in the next Primary. I was kind of scared because I didn’t know what to talk about. She asked me a question. Had I ever tried to be like Jesus?
Me, like Jesus? I tried to think, but all I could remember was how I’d made my brother cry. Then I’d spilled my cereal all over the floor. And I’d stepped on Abua’s tail (she’s my cat). I don’t think Jesus stepped on cats’ tails.
I could tell that Mom wanted me to say that I tried to be like Jesus at least some of the time, but the truth is the truth. I looked at the floor and said that I’d never tried to be like Jesus.
I thought Mom might be mad, but instead she lifted up my head and reminded me of the way I helped our neighbor, Mrs. Overholt, with her baby, Macy. Just thinking about Macy’s fluffy curls and the way she screams “Kee” when she sees our cat made me giggle. I like to play with her and give her rides in the wagon. And sometimes I let her play with my dolls, even though she puts them in her mouth.
My mother said that Jesus loves children, too.
Then Mom asked me where my jelly beans were. My jelly beans! I slipped my hand into my pocket, but all I could find was one. A red and yellow one. I told her that my friends Aaron and Jonah and I had eaten all the rest. Aaron likes the yellow ones with white speckles best. He says they taste just like popcorn at the movies.
My mother smiled and told me that Jesus shared with his friends, too. Bread and fishes, not jelly beans.
Then, when my mother hugged me and reminded me about last Sunday, a nice, tingly feeling spread across my chest. Last Sunday, after the sacrament was passed, she’d let me sit next to my baby-sitter. I always look over everyone’s heads until I find where she’s sitting. This time I sat on her lap and gave her lots of big hugs. After church, her mother told my mother how much they love me and how grateful they are for me. Her daughter had been feeling sad, and she said that my hugs really helped.
My mother said that Jesus helped people feel better, too.
I was being like Jesus sometimes, after all. When next Sunday comes, I’ll stand up in front of everyone and give my talk. Jesus gave talks, too.