When I picked Sis up from Sunday School the teacher was smirking. She then proceeded with the details of the day’s lesson. She informed me that they had discussed the widow’s mite, talking about how God valued her gift more highly than the larger gift of the rich man because she gave out of her poverty. At the end of story time, the teacher quizzed the children.
“Boys and girls, who gave more?”
Sis called out, “The witch! The witch!”
“Oh no, Sis,” The teacher gently but firmly corrected, a little disappointed at the disruption and her total disconnect. “She had lost her husband and was poor and still brought what little money she had to God. She wasn’t a witch.” Then she continued, “O.K., boys and girls, let’s try again. Who gave more to God that day.
“The witch! The wwwwwitchhhhhhh!!” Sis stood her ground.
There was awkward silence as teacher and helpers looked at each other.
“The witch man. He gave more money.”
“Ah, yes, Sis. Now I understand. The rich man. Yes, he did give more, but God was not impressed.”
The teacher and I giggled at the door. Then the kids headed up to see if by some loaves-and-fishes miracle donuts remained from the earlier intermission. I shook my head. Turns out it is not just important what you say, but how you say it.
“The words of a man’s mouth are deep waters…” Proverbs 18:4a
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