One stormy Sunday, a cute little boy sat on the edge of a pew in church. His feet dangled back and forth heavy with his dress shoes. His mother occassionally slapped his hand down when he tried to play "shoot-em-dead" with his friend across the aisle. Thunder rolled outside and entertained little Noah during the long service. Sitting still was very difficult, but he beamed happiness. He knew it was almost time for the last hymn and that soon he could run around. On top of that, something wonderful had just happened to him. The boy looked up at his momma with an angelic smile of pure joy. In his hand he had several shiny smooth coins. His daddy had just put them in his hand. Just like that. What a great present. Little Noah couldn't wait to gloat about it to his sisters.
He noticed the ushers were passing the offering plate through the pews. The boy wanted to tell the usher he had money too. He held his full fist up high. What was this? The usher was asking for his money. Momma was pointing to the plate as if he should give up his shiny coins. Noah shook his head to say no, stunned to be commanded to do such a dreadful thing. Give up his shiny smooth coins?
The 3 seconds of debate seemed like an eternity to the boy's mother. Finally, shoulders slumped, bottom lip popped out, brow furrowed, Noah slammed the coins into the plate. Several of them went flying hitting the family in the next row over.
The boy's parents didn't know if they should laugh or cry - they did a little bit of both.