Natalie's Church Contribution

Recently, I attended a church service with my 18 month old granddaughter, Natalie. Anyone with any experience whatsoever with young children and church knows the goal is to avoid toddler outbursts. No one wants to be the focus of annoyed churchgoer stares masked by pageant-like smiles. Young parents can only hope they don’t sweat through their clothes while trying to keep their toddlers occupied with enough crayons, paper, and goldfish crackers to at least make it through the sermon.

I learned by my mom’s example and can now say from my own experience, the gold standard in navigating church with an under 3-year-old is a grandmother’s bottomless purse. Recently, I was reminded of the magic of the handbag from very personal experience.

Natalie loves purses. Natalie loves the contents of purses, especially mine. It’s as if she has muscle memory upon unzipping my purse. During the first 10 minutes of church, Natalie had lined up on the pew every content of my bag. Along the seated space between us included the following: my most recent Target receipt, my two Mary Kay lipsticks, and my used napkin recently used to wipe the leftover yogurt pouch from her fingertips. My wallet was splayed open revealing school pictures of my grandkids and the plethora of plastic cards that drive my world. Now, here is when this story becomes a story.

Believe me when I tell you I never carry cash. I mean, I rarely have two dollars on hand to tip anyone, from the restaurant car valet to the grocery bagger who insists on carrying my groceries to my trunk. I mean, I can count the number of times I profusely hope my verbal appreciations are as valuable as a couple of dollars.

So, when Natalie began to empty my wallet contents, she reached the stashed of bundle of cash. I’d recently received a royalty check for my book, Just Give Me The Road. Although the check amount was author-poor, it was fun to think I had a bit of cash on hand for frivolous spending.

We made it through the sermon without a problem.  Natalie was happy to “count” my various plastic cards, even throwing my Kroger card to the older gentleman in front of us. Obviously he was a grandparent as well. I could tell by the way he retrieved the card with smiling eyes.

The offertory song began, and the choir filled the church rafters with angelic song. Natalie and I were in the rhythm of the moment. She was content with rearranging all my stuff. The collection basket zig zagged along each pew as parishioners added their weekly donation. In appreciation of this faith community, I vowed to myself to bring a check next time as this would be the church my younger grandson would be baptized. However, Natalie had other intentions. As the collection basket made its way along the pew behind us, Natalie stood, turned around, and noticed people putting money in the basket. Before I knew it, she followed the example, took my wad of cash, and BAM, scored the basket….collection basket that is. Just like that, my humble book earnings were now part of the larger world supporting church.  

I mean, I couldn’t take back the cash. What would that have said to the smiling and adoring folks surrounding Natalie’s cuteness. I wasn’t used to having cash anyway, and I guess this was the best way to give meaning to meager frivolous spending. As I held Natalie’s sweet little hand, I reconciled the priceless moment. That day for her, God was alive and well in my purse.