The Parable of the Soggy Dollars

One windy and cold Sunday we drove to church in our usual hurry.  Sunday for now is always just the five of us, so Leah and Adam take turns sitting in the front seat next to me.  This Sunday Leah had a small pile of dollar bills on her lap, ready to pay her tithing once we got to the chapel. 

We parked and the kids all hopped out and scurried into the building, eager to claim a bench before the meeting started.  All of them except Leah, who paused at the front end of the car and bent over.  I immediately knew why.  The dollar bills that she had carefully placed on her lap had been forgotten, and blown away by the relentless Iowa wind as soon as she hopped out of the car.

I told everyone to head inside and came around to see what the situation was.  

"The dollars flew under the car next to us and they're stuck in a puddle!" was Leah's report.  

So, two ladies in dresses ducked down in the parking lot to see what we could do about it.  It was a tricky situation because snow was melting all over the parking lot, rendering it impossible to simply kneel down and reach the dollars without getting soaking wet.  

But I still tried!

"Mommy!" Leah exclaimed.  "People are driving by and they can see you bending over!" 

"Well then come stand behind me," I replied.

But to no avail.  The dollars were perfectly positioned directly under the middle of the sedan.  

We needed to extend our reach.  

What would do the trick?  A stick?  A broom from the church kitchen?   We opted for the most easily accessible tool- the ice scraper from my trunk, and to assist with the kneeling down and bending over and reaching under, a bag of clothes waiting to be donated.  

I knelt down on the bag, stretched under the car and heard, "Mommy!  It's only a few dollars.  Just leave it!" 

"No way!" I replied.  "This is God's money and you're going to give it to Him!" 

After what seemed like an eternity, I eventually scraped each dollar out of the puddle it was immersed in and handed it, muddy and dripping wet, to Leah.

"Do you know what you're going to remember about this, Leah?," I asked. 

"That you're a little bit crazy?" she said with a laugh.

"No, you're going to remember that your mother has a testimony of paying tithing, and that she's willing to do what it takes to do what the Lord has asked us to do." 

And with that we headed inside, brushing off our knees and smoothing down our hair, me to the bench and Leah to the bathroom to dry off the soggy dollars that she then used to pay her tithing.