Friends by Mail


The Blessings of Diabetes

When I was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, it was very hard for me. I had to prick my finger every two hours and get a lot of shots from my mom every day. Sometimes it hurt.

Then last year my mom and I decided to start looking for the good side of having diabetes. First, I have made new friends who also have diabetes. They help me a lot. I can help others who have diabetes by babysitting for their families or by talking and listening.

My brothers have also been blessed by learning to have patience and to be loving when I don’t feel well. The school nurse is my friend, and I’ve been blessed with Primary teachers who understand and help me. In our family we hug and support each other more.

The blessings of diabetes are all around me. I am thankful that my parents teach me to seek and find these special blessings. I know my Heavenly Father always blesses me and always will. Heidi Millett, age 8, and her mom, Queen Creek, Arizona

Heavenly Father Protected Us

The sign says, “Caution: Icy Bridge Deck.” It stands next to the big concrete bridge over the Athabasca River in the center of Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada, where I live. Our city is in northern Canada, where the roads are covered with ice and snow for six months of the year and driving can be dangerous.

One day, just as we passed the warning sign, our truck started sliding out of control. My mom prayed out loud, “Heavenly Father, please help us!” Our truck spun around on the bridge until its nose banged hard into one of the gray walls. We stopped with a jerk, and I accidentally bit my tongue.

“We’re OK,” Mom said as she patted my leg. “Heavenly Father protected us. Look—it didn’t even wake Nathan (my little brother).” Although the truck had crashed, and my tongue was sore, I knew that Mom was right. Even though the bridge was slippery, the cars behind us were able to stop without bumping into us. The wall of the bridge stayed strong and kept us from falling into the frozen river. The truck’s shiny metal bumper was crumpled, but the truck still worked fine. We got home safely, just like we’d prayed that morning before we left the house. Samuel Quist, age 5, with help from his mom, Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada

[illustration] Illustrated by Mark Robison