A Child’s Heart

A CHILD’S HEART

Last week we were privileged to glimpse a bit of a child’s heart.

Each year our church takes a special offering on Palm Sunday that supports the various social ministries of the church. The Sunday prior to that, little cardboard banks are distributed to the children in their Sunday School classes and a little devotional guide is provided in the bulletin for the parents.

This year, the emphasis in the little guide was on children. Each day parents and their children were asked to consider different needs of children around the world. The idea was that the various horrifying statistics of starvation, disease, and death would motivate little ones to plunk their pennies in. The parents guide to this project seemed a little beyond our toddler, so we got creative.

Josh just recently started attending Sunday School and to his immense delight received his very own cardboard bank. At home he proudly showed it to me and explained that we needed to put money in it. I thought to myself, “This offering for hungry children….Ah, what an incredible way for me to teach Joshua about giving!”

On Sunday afternoon we embarked on an adventure. As we explained to Josh that some children in the world are hungry, cold, homeless, or parentless, his little face reflected his emotions. He was horrified. We didn’t need to belabor the point.

On Monday, we carefully counted our pennies into the bank. “And this one is for bread, and this one is for milk, and this one is for blankies, and this one is for….hmmmm….peanut butter!” he designated each coin. He shook the bank and heard the money rattle around inside. He was impressed.

On Tuesday, I got some change out of my wallet and handed it to Josh. He craned his neck to see into my wallet. “There’s more money in there!” he said accusingly. “I need it all!“

“But Josh!” I protested, “I gave you some already.”

“Mom, these kids are hungry!!” he explained sternly. I dug deeper and he added to the weight of the bank.

On Wednesday we skipped McDonald’s and put the amount we would have spent in the cardboard bank.

The bank was definitely getting heavier. Josh hefted it with satisfaction. Lots of money for hungry children. Those hungry children were heavy on his mind.

On Thursday Josh informed a family friend that we were saving money for skinny boys.

The fact of children living on the street troubled him deeply. That night he designated three quarters to get a house for the children.

On Friday Dave’s dad came to visit. He wasn’t in the house long before Josh wrapped himself around his legs and ordered, “Get out your money, Grandpa! I need money.” More coins for hungry children. The bank was getting heavier.

Saturday Josh got creative. He came into the kitchen lugging his own weighty piggy bank.

I started to protest, but I think that an angel thumped me on the shoulder. Mercifully I was able to keep my mouth shut. Who am I to tell Joshua that he shouldn’t give his own money out of his own piggy bank?

After he pried open the bottom, he grabbed fistfuls of coins and began depositing them into the cardboard bank. Each coin went for something different. Some were for staples like bread and milk and blankets, and some others were for the staples of a toddler’s world–peanut butter, apples, toys, and teddy bears.

I wanted to protest as he shook more nickels and dimes into his hand. Again, that angel tapped my shoulder. There would be plenty of time for miserly computation of the required 10% tithe. Right now, his child’s heart only knows that children shouldn’t be hungry.

Sunday was THE day. For the occasion, Josh joined us in church. Throughout the opening hymns, he squirmed with impatience. He fidgeted through the announcements, frequently hugging David around the neck or kissing me. His bank was in my purse and it was burning a hole in Joshua’s heart.

At last, the ushers took the offering. At last the offering plate reached us. Proudly, Joshua heaved his penny-bulging bank onto the plate and announced grandly, generously, in a stage whisper that carried several aisles, “And they can keep it, too!”

After I swallowed the lump in my throat, I said to myself, “This offering for hungry children…ah, what an incredible way for Josh to teach me about giving.”
c. 1992