That Sunday morning I stared into our nearly empty refrigerator trying to imagine how I’d stretch our food to last us the rest of the week. My two kids and I had just moved from a shelter for abused women into a small, low-rent apartment. I wasn’t sure where lunch would come from, let alone Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. I was tired of praying for miracles, tired of worrying about how we would get by.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe’d better get going to church,\u201d I told the kids.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait!\u201d cried my four-year-old son, P.J., climbing onto the counter to open a kitchen cabinet while three-year-old Amanda reached into the refrigerator. \u201cDon’t you remember, Mommy? We’re supposed to bring something for the poor.\u201d<\/p>\n
Yes, that’s what the pastor at our new church had said. How could I tell my son we were the poor? \u201cWe don’t have anything to bring.\u201d I said, closing the refrigerator door just as Amanda extracted a single droopy carrot. P.J. held up a dusty can of peas he’d found. \u201cSure we do!\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
It’s bad enough my children have to go to a new church dressed in old clothes, I thought. Now I’m letting them bring rotten food to the altar.<\/p>\n
By the time we got to church and grabbed a pew in back, the altar was overflowing with offerings \u2013 turkeys, pies and loaves of bread. I knew that a fraction of that bounty could feed my family for a month. I whispered a familiar prayer: \u201cLord, help us get on our feet again.\u201d<\/p>\n
P.J. and Amanda picked up their offerings.<\/p>\n
They walked toward the altar, P.J. in his little suit that was too short in the sleeves, Amanda holding her carrot in front of her like a candle. All heads tamed to watch. The pastor pointed to where they could leave their gifts. A murmur ran through the crowd and people smiled.<\/p>\n
I felt a rush of pride. P.J. and Amanda had found something to give while I saw only empty shelves. As it turned out those shelves weren’t empty for long. Members of our church showed up on our doorstep with more than enough for a Thanksgiving feast. Looking at the bounty, I thought of others I knew who could use a little extra. \u201cCome on,\u201d I said to my kids, \u201clet’s see if we can share some Thanksgiving.\u201d<\/p>\n
__________<\/p>\n
Tina Fenech, Brampton, Ontario, Canada
\nSource: Guideposts, Copyright (c) November 2000, http:\/\/www.guideposts.org<\/p>\n
*<\/p>\n
[Illustration at this number was a duplicate of HolwickID #9192]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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