Answer to Prayer

One night during my first year at BYU I was in a hurry to get to MIA. I debated whether to take my purse or not. My roommates had their keys and besides, I had $60 in my purse, so I decided to leave it there. I opened the bedroom door and threw it on my bed. Then I ran out the door and down the stairs to catch up with the others.

After MIA I visited with friends until it was time for the dormitory doors to be locked. I wearily climbed the two flights of stairs to my apartment and fell into bed.

Rushing to be on time to my 7am sociology class the nest morning, I looked in all the usual places for my purse. Where had I put it? Did I leave it at MIA? No, I left it on the bed, but it's not there. It must be on the floor. No, not there either. Panic started to set in The $60 was all the money I had and it was tightly budgeted. I had to get to class, so the purse would have to wait.

As I walked across campus in the darkness I tried to stay calm. I had a job and would soon receive a check, but in the meantime I had food to buy and a loan payment to make. Help from home was almost impossible. By the time I reached class I was feeling sick. I couldn't think where the purse could be.

The teacher droned on without me hearing much of his lecture That hour seemed to last forever.

"Oh, Heavenly Father," I silently prayed, "Where is it? I really need that money and I know You know where it is. Please tell me."

A silent voice, yet a clear one came in reply. "Look between the bed and the wall."

The bell rang and I ran for the apartment, ignoring my friends who wanted to talk on the way. The dorm had never seemed so far or the stairs so many. I threw open the door, ran in the room and moved the bed away from the wall.

As I retrieved the purse from where it had fallen, I offered a prayer thanking Heavenly Father for listening and caring and sending that still small voice.