Grandma Jean would be pleased I was in church, but appalled I was being paid to be there. I can hear her now, “Honey, you be sure you put that entire fifty dollars in the tithe plate. God will bless you.”
Before I made it to the pews, a mouse streaked across the floor right in front of me. The shriek that escaped me echoed throughout the church. “Oh, that’s just Jonah,” explained a gray-haired man.
“Mice are dirty and don’t belong in a church.” I winced. The words had left my mouth before I could stop them.
“Of course, he does; we’re all God’s creatures. Our sins make us dirtier than a simple mouse.” The man chuckled and patted my shoulder before walking away.
Half way through the service separate trays of wafers and wine were passed down each pew. “You’re going to be disappointed with the wine,” said the woman next to me as she passed the tray of wine. “The minister is a drunk and drinks all the wine. He’s too cheap to replace it. You’ll have to pretend the colored water is wine.”
Next, the tithe plate was passed to me. Guilt needled at me. I pulled all the loose coins from the bottom of my purse and dropped them in. As I handed the plate to the man sitting on the other side of me, he reached in and grabbed a handful of dollars. I gasped.
He grinned at me as he held up the fistful. “God helps those who help themselves.” He pocketed the money that was in his hand before sending the plate on.
I’m sorry Grandma Jean. I don’t think church is for me, I thought to myself as I left.
J K Metz 