Don't Sweat the Money

The parson was working on an old car someone had given to the church. The plan was to somehow get it running so it could be given to the family at the transitional house. It was a noble project. It was also a humbling project. What the parson knew about internal combustion engines would not fill a thimble. He finally conceded defeat and lowered the hood. As he stood wiping his hands and contemplating the proper strategy to get the car dealer church member to donate the repairs, he heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, Parson, where'd you get that neat car?”

The parson turned to inspect the car with its flaked paint, dented right front fender, and missing right side mirror. He'd not thought of the vehicle as “neat.” Instantaneously he decided not to ask for an explanation of the description. He turned to see his favorite budding pastor leaning with her bike against the fence that bordered the church yard.

“Hello, Ginger, I know a fellow who runs a wrecker service. He towed this car in from a parking lot. He's letting me try to get it fixed so one of the homeless women can use it.”

“That's a good idea, Parson. I didn't know you knew how to fix cars.”

The parson smiled. “I don't Ginger; I was just pretending.”

Ginger dismounted her bike without it ever moving from its leaning position against the fence. The parson thought that was neat.

“You know,” said Ginger, “you could take it to Mr. Faulkner's Dodge place. Shucks, with the economy ruined he's not selling any cars. He ought to have time to fix it.”

“Well, I have to get it there, Ginger.”

“No problem. Mr. Faulkner has one of those tow trucks. Old Harvey Siller drivers it.”

“You're right, Ginger. I need to do that. I'll call Bill Faulkner tomorrow. What brings you to an old country church on a beautiful afternoon.”

Ginger walked a few steps to sit on a garden bench beside the driveway. “Actually, Parson, I came by because I wanted to tell you not to worry.”

“Not to worry? Worry about what?”

“Look, Parson,” she said with a tone of self-knowledge, “I heard you talking to Mrs. Jackson and Mr. Bennett after church last Sunday. I was helping Mom clean the kitchen and when I took the trash out I passed by the room where you were talking. I heard you guys talking about the collection was short the last few Sundays. Well, I just want you to know you don't need to worry about it.”

“I don't?”

“No, you don't. Let me explain.” Ginger now stood and walked to the side of the flower bed where the parson had taken a seat on another garden bench. Standing in front of him, she continued. “This financial problem the country is having will be good for everybody.”

“It will?”

“Yes, sir, it will. Look, last Friday night I spent the night with my cousin, Judith. You know her; she comes to church when she spends the night at my house.”

The parson indicated he did know Judith.

“So, while I was over there I realized that everybody not having as much money is a good thing.”

“I”m glad to hear that. But how did you come to this conclusion.”

“Okay, now listen this is just between you and me. I'm telling you this as my pastor so you can't tell anyone else. Right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, most of the time when I go to Judith's house her mom and dad are too busy to pay much attention to us. Most of the time they leave us with Judith's sister and they go out to eat or to a movie or play or something. But last time they didn't do that. Know what they did?”

“What?”

“They taught us how to play this game call Monopoly. And we played that game together for hours. It was cool. I don't think they have played a game with Judith for a long time. And you know why they didn't do it?”

“Why?”

“'cause, they couldn't afford to go out to eat. Judith's mom got laid off at her job, so they don't have enough money to do that stuff anymore. But they do have time for Judith now. And that's the good thing about it.”

The parson marveled at the wisdom of one so young.

“And that's why you don't have to worry about the church budget so much.”

“Judith and her parents are connected to the church budget?”

“No, silly,” said Ginger as she rolled her eyes. “It's the same kind of situation though. Look, if we don't have enough money in the budget the youth can't go on that trip to Disney World. Right?”

“Right.”

“So, instead, they will have to learn to do things around here, just like Judith's parents. So we could have projects to help people that are in real trouble. We could help old people fix up their house; we could rake leaves at the shut-ins houses. There's all kinds of things we can do because we don't have enough money to do all those we don't need to do.”

The parson pondered this latest revelation from God's future messenger.

“I've got to go, Parson,” said Ginger. “Mom's going to be mad if I'm late. See you later. And quit worrying.”

The parson watched her pedal down the road. He rose, whistled for his faithful canine companion, Charlie Brown, and waked toward his car, all the while wondering if the grandkids knew how to play Chinese Checkers.

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Comments

[Linda]

Ginger is so smart.