“Debbie, My Friend,” Friend, Feb. 2003, 34
Debbie is two years older than I am, and a few inches taller. She is my sister and my friend.
We play together, and she pushes me on the swing. We work together, and I help her tidy up the living room.
Debbie just learned how to ride a bike, and now she’s teaching me. When I fall, she helps me up and makes sure that I’m OK. After she teaches me to ride the bike, I’ll teach her to draw an airplane. I’m good at drawing airplanes.
We like to do everything together. When a neighbor asks Debbie to come and play, she says, “Can Josh come, too?”
Sometimes when our family goes on trips, Debbie tells stories to me and baby Jennie. We like her stories. She knows lots of stories from Primary because she’s five, and she’s been in Primary for two whole years.
When she tells the story of David and Goliath, she lets me say David’s part, because now I know the story, too.
Now that I’m in Primary, I’m learning lots of new stories, just like Debbie. Maybe next time we take a trip, I’ll tell stories to her and baby Jennie. I’ll let Debbie do Goliath’s part because she knows it so well.
The first time I went to Primary, I was excited and I wasn’t scared, because Debbie was sitting right behind me. She always brings me right to my row and says, “Don’t worry, Josh—I’ll be right back there.”
I’m glad Debbie’s my sister. She plays with me, helps me, and teaches me. She’s my friend.