Our church is having special offerings this month to send our missionaries each a Christmas check. This morning, while we were singing the first hymn, I thought maybe the boys would like to put the coins in their pockets into the missionary fund instead of into the regular offering.
I probably should have gone through this thought process before church had actually started.
I reached around Art’s back and poked Bubs and beckoned for him to come to me. He climbed behind Art and I whispered in his ear that if he wanted his money to go to the missionaries for Christmas presents, he could put his quarter in the little envelope and put that in the offering plate. He said he wanted to so we put his quarter in and he climbed back around Art, clutching the little manilla envelope like it was a treasure.
He whispered to Stinky, who was on his other side, that Stinky should put his money in an envelope too. Stinky took an envelope from the little holder in front of him, and dropped his two quarters and a nickel into it.
A moment later, as we transitioned into another song, Art was dealing with some sort of offering-related crisis and Stinky was crying.
During the final chorus, Stinky dropped his nickel into the hymn rack in front of him. Art gave me a look that clearly said this is your fault. I mouthed “I’m sorry.”
During the prayer before the offering, all three of Stinky’s coins fell out of his envelope and went rolling around on the floor.
I sat down, reached behind Art, grabbed both envelopes, licked them, stuck them shut, and handed them back with death glares.
I do hope the missionaries appreciate that eighty cents.