Sitting in church recently, I watched the usher walk down the aisle extending the collection basket into each pew so the congregation could drop in their envelopes, one by one.
A few rows in front of me sat a little girl with her family. She must have been two or three. Small, curly hair. Her mother had given her the family’s envelope to drop in the basket when it was their turn.
Somehow, the usher missed the little girl. He must not have seen her there, eagerly holding the envelope out in anxious anticipation. She must have been too small, too reserved. She must have been drowned out by all the commotion of adults singing along to the hymn that was playing, and lots of bigger people sitting around her, blocking her from view.
He walked past that family’s pew, not stretching out the basket and thus not giving the…
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