A Conversion Story (Part XIII)
(Coming in late? Start from the beginning!)
After the missionaries left, Keith and I retired to my bedroom to figure out what we wanted to bring to the shore and start packing. As we were doing so, I asked him how much money he had for the trip, and was rather shocked by his response:
“I don’t have any money. I thought you had the money for the trip!”
“I don’t have any money,” I responded. “You know I got fired from my job, a couple months ago!”
“Well, I don’t have any money either,” he told me. “You know I quit my job, a couple months ago!”
So we did the only thing a couple of teenage kids with no money could do: we went to my parents.
My parents said no.
So we did the only thing a couple of teenage kids with no money could do: we called Keith‘s parents.
Keith’s parents said no.
We thought maybe we could sell some blood, but quickly remembered, they don’t pay you for blood; they pay you for plasma. Furthermore, whether we were talking about blood, plasma, or any other bodily fluid, 9:15 on a Saturday night is not exactly the best time to try to do it. We brainstormed as best we could, but couldn’t come up with any possible way to make some money by the next morning. And that’s when the light bulb came on over Keith’s head: “I know what we can do!”
“What?” I asked him.
“We’ll do what the Sisters told us to do! We’ll pray about it!”
“You can’t pray for money!”
“Why not? We’re not being greedy! We just want to have a good time!”
“Well, I’m not gonna pray for money! You do it!”
“Okay.”
So we closed the door and kneeled down on my bedroom floor. Keith offered a beautiful prayer that we would get enough money to have a good time. We both said “Amen,” got up and sat on the bed, looked at each other quizzically and wondered what—if anything—was going to happen, and almost jumped when, about a minute later, there was a knock on the door. It was my mother. Her exact words were as follows:
“Jeff, your father and I have talked about it, and we want you to have a good time, so we’re giving you $100 for the week.”
We thanked her, closed the door, and looked at each other wide-eyed. “It works!” I almost yelled. We quickly dropped back to our knees and offered a quick prayer of thanks to our Heavenly Father for answering our prayers so quickly and completely. Then we got into Keith’s car and headed over to his place, to get together his stuff.
While we were in his room, getting his stuff together for the trip, there came a knock on the door. It was his mother. Her exact words were as follows:
“Keith, I’ve been talking with your father, and we’ve decided we want you to have a good time. We’re giving you $160 for the week.”
We thanked her, closed the door, and almost jumped for joy. Again, we dropped to our knees and thanked our Heavenly Father for everything He had done and was then doing for us. Keith brought me home and I went straight to bed.
The next week is somewhat of a blur. We went to the shore, had a great time, and made sure we read at least a chapter from the Book of Mormon each night. (I went back to The First Book of Nephi, so Keith and I could read together; kind of shame, since I was just about to read the great missionary chapter known as Mosiah 4. I’m sure it was good for Keith to be reading along with me, though; I know I understood things better the second time, and was able to help him a bit.) By the time we left on Friday morning, we had read the first nine chapters of First Nephi, together.
As we were on our way home, Friday afternoon, we were just about to get off the Garden State Parkway (a toll road that runs the length of the state) when a thought came to me: I turned to Keith, knowing that I’d been broke for about a day already, but he’d lent me the money I needed out of his parents’ generosity. I asked him how much money he had left, at that point. He didn’t exactly know, but was frankly a bit irritated—he probably assumed I wanted to borrow some more. I did, however, finally prevail in convincing him to let me take a look. As I checked his wallet, the reality of what I was looking for hit me: Keith had nothing in his wallet, save a single quarter. We had needed $259.75 to “have a good time” that week, and our Heavenly Father had provided us with $260.00.
We thanked Him profusely, again.
Tune in next time for Part XIV!
“Jesus answered and said unto them, Verily I say unto you, If ye have faith, and doubt not, ye shall not only do this which is done to the fig tree, but also if ye shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; it shall be done. And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive” (Matt. 21:21-22).
After the missionaries left, Keith and I retired to my bedroom to figure out what we wanted to bring to the shore and start packing. As we were doing so, I asked him how much money he had for the trip, and was rather shocked by his response:
“I don’t have any money. I thought you had the money for the trip!”
“I don’t have any money,” I responded. “You know I got fired from my job, a couple months ago!”
“Well, I don’t have any money either,” he told me. “You know I quit my job, a couple months ago!”
So we did the only thing a couple of teenage kids with no money could do: we went to my parents.
My parents said no.
So we did the only thing a couple of teenage kids with no money could do: we called Keith‘s parents.
Keith’s parents said no.
We thought maybe we could sell some blood, but quickly remembered, they don’t pay you for blood; they pay you for plasma. Furthermore, whether we were talking about blood, plasma, or any other bodily fluid, 9:15 on a Saturday night is not exactly the best time to try to do it. We brainstormed as best we could, but couldn’t come up with any possible way to make some money by the next morning. And that’s when the light bulb came on over Keith’s head: “I know what we can do!”
“What?” I asked him.
“We’ll do what the Sisters told us to do! We’ll pray about it!”
“You can’t pray for money!”
“Why not? We’re not being greedy! We just want to have a good time!”
“Well, I’m not gonna pray for money! You do it!”
“Okay.”
So we closed the door and kneeled down on my bedroom floor. Keith offered a beautiful prayer that we would get enough money to have a good time. We both said “Amen,” got up and sat on the bed, looked at each other quizzically and wondered what—if anything—was going to happen, and almost jumped when, about a minute later, there was a knock on the door. It was my mother. Her exact words were as follows:
“Jeff, your father and I have talked about it, and we want you to have a good time, so we’re giving you $100 for the week.”
We thanked her, closed the door, and looked at each other wide-eyed. “It works!” I almost yelled. We quickly dropped back to our knees and offered a quick prayer of thanks to our Heavenly Father for answering our prayers so quickly and completely. Then we got into Keith’s car and headed over to his place, to get together his stuff.
While we were in his room, getting his stuff together for the trip, there came a knock on the door. It was his mother. Her exact words were as follows:
“Keith, I’ve been talking with your father, and we’ve decided we want you to have a good time. We’re giving you $160 for the week.”
We thanked her, closed the door, and almost jumped for joy. Again, we dropped to our knees and thanked our Heavenly Father for everything He had done and was then doing for us. Keith brought me home and I went straight to bed.
The next week is somewhat of a blur. We went to the shore, had a great time, and made sure we read at least a chapter from the Book of Mormon each night. (I went back to The First Book of Nephi, so Keith and I could read together; kind of shame, since I was just about to read the great missionary chapter known as Mosiah 4. I’m sure it was good for Keith to be reading along with me, though; I know I understood things better the second time, and was able to help him a bit.) By the time we left on Friday morning, we had read the first nine chapters of First Nephi, together.
As we were on our way home, Friday afternoon, we were just about to get off the Garden State Parkway (a toll road that runs the length of the state) when a thought came to me: I turned to Keith, knowing that I’d been broke for about a day already, but he’d lent me the money I needed out of his parents’ generosity. I asked him how much money he had left, at that point. He didn’t exactly know, but was frankly a bit irritated—he probably assumed I wanted to borrow some more. I did, however, finally prevail in convincing him to let me take a look. As I checked his wallet, the reality of what I was looking for hit me: Keith had nothing in his wallet, save a single quarter. We had needed $259.75 to “have a good time” that week, and our Heavenly Father had provided us with $260.00.
We thanked Him profusely, again.
Tune in next time for Part XIV!
I'm loving your conversion story! Keep it coming.
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