I’ve felt good about continuing my fiction writing endeavors, wherever they take me. I think they’ve improved my writing in general, including my legal writing. But in all my writing endeavors I decided that if I ever plan to succeed in publishing a book that I need to give something away. I don’t really know why that makes sense to me, but it does. I think it’s more like, if I expect God’s help in my writing I should give something to Him.

And all of these thoughts led me to the idea that I should write down some of the stories from my youth and give them to the New Era. You can submit stories to church magazines here. Anyway, I decided to submit a story of mine to the New Era back in May. Today we got a letter saying that my story was accepted for publication in the New Era. It’s pretty cool, there’s a contract and another piece of paper where you have to fill out all this information about yourself. I know a few people who have had stories published in church magazines or have had their stories accepted for publication, and I know that my story may never see the light of day. So for now I’ll share it with you. This is a true story from my youth.

A Mother’s Prayer

I prayed for a friend.

It was hard being the only Mormon at my school, hard to make friends, and harder still to make friends with the same high standards. So I prayed, and the Lord blessed me with a friend.

Will became my best friend. And once two people start hanging out and having a great time, other people start to join you, and you find yourself surrounded by friends. That’s how it was after Will and I started hanging out. Will got his driver’s license first and the rest of us always used to joke that when there’s a Will there’s a way. Me, Will, and all our other friends went everywhere and did everything together. My teenage years were idyllic because of my friendships.

Will wasn’t LDS, but he tried to respect me for my standards. On the rare occasions that a bad word came out of his mouth, he would apologize. If we were with other friends and one of them cursed he would say, “hey, we don’t cuss around Jacob.” It felt good to know that I didn’t have to stick up for my standards all by myself—it was good to know Will would stick up for me.

One time we went to rent a couple of movies and watch them at somebody’s house. My friends and I picked out one movie I was okay with, and another movie I knew was inappropriate. I mentioned something about not wanting to watch it, but everyone went ahead and rented it anyway. Will noticed I was quiet as we were driving away from the rental place.

“Hey, Jacob, is it really bothering you that we got that other movie?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “But it’s okay. I’ll just leave the room for that movie.”

Will didn’t think it was okay. In James Bond style—he always drove a little crazy—Will pulled up on the e-brake, whipped the car around in the middle of the road, and drove back to the rental store. Will and I went back into the store and exchanged the inappropriate movie for something better that everybody still wanted to watch. I was always glad to have friends that helped me live my standards.

Years passed.

I got my mission call and was leaving soon to go to Argentina. I decided to drop by Will’s house, say goodbye and tell him I’d miss him. He wasn’t home, but his mom was. Surprisingly she shared with me how much she appreciated the friendship I had offered him. Will’s dad had abandoned them when Will was two, and with no male role model for him she felt helpless as she watched him grow up. She felt she was losing touch with her son. For the first time since her husband had left her, she had prayed that her son would make a friend. A friend that would help keep her son out of trouble.

“You were that friend,” she told me. “Thanks for helping me raise my son. Thanks for answering my prayers.”

I couldn’t help but hug her. She was the mother of my best friend through high school. The mother of a friend who had always been there for me. All this time she thought her Heavenly Father had answered her prayer, and I thought He had answered mine. I know God hears our prayers. And sometimes, some very special times, he lets us answer them too.