The church I serve is across the street from the city’s poorest and most dangerous sections; a small part, the previous pastor told us, gives the city its bad reputation.
Because of our location, we get phone calls once in awhile from people asking for help with groceries or with food. I have to guess that we get more calls than actually make it through to us, since we’re not in the office on a consistent basis and there are likely people who call and don’t leave a message.
We do maintain a small food pantry that the church staff goes through every once in awhile to make sure the cans haven’t expired, and a few folks donate food to keep it stocked.
While certainly not put to its best use, it serves a function in the community. People who need a bag or two of groceries to tide themselves over until their next paycheck comes in are able to find what they need.
One of my first experiences helping someone out came a few weeks ago. A woman called the church after our Sunday worship service and said she needed a gallon of milk for her kids, and explained the circumstances surrounding that need. I told her to come on down to the church, and I’d be there with milk for her and her family.
I dashed down the street to the Walgreens to get some milk in time for her arrival. By this time, most of the church folks had left except for my husband and me, and some others who were cleaning up after coffee fellowship.
Several minutes later, she arrived with her daughter. I gave her the milk and showed her our small food pantry, in case there was anything else she needed.
Her daughter—probably about 6 or 7 years old—was the most extroverted, loving, joyous and friendly little girl I have ever seen. She approached everything in the church with an inquisitive spirit: “Let’s see this!” or “Can I play with this?” She spontaneously gave hugs to those she saw. I was quite enchanted by her spirit of love and acceptance to everyone and her exuberance for life.
While I was showing this young girl around and sharing some toys with her, she impulsively decided to share something with me. As I was admiring her purse, she wanted to show me what was inside.
She pulled out three quarters and one nickel. I admired how much money she had, and she smiled up at me and took a quarter and put it into my hand. “This is for you!” she exclaimed.
I was taken aback, and a more than a little unsure as to how to respond. After all, this kid I had barely met, whose family was facing difficult economic times, had just given me a significant amount of the money that she had to her name.
I shook my head and told her she should keep it, but she wouldn't hear of it. Finally, she allowed me to exchange the quarter she had given me for a nickel.
I continue to ponder this unusual exchange.
Part of me feels like I should have kept the quarter she had so generously given. Like the woman in Mark 12:38-44, who places all she has into the temple treasury, this girl had freely given away her money without question—in this case to a complete stranger! To this little girl, a quarter was a lot of money, but she still wanted to give it away to share with me what she had.
The nickel from her that I kept now sits on my dresser as a reminder of this exchange. It reminds me that even when we have little, we are called to give. It reminds me that a tithe is only a starting place, and that we are called to go above and beyond to be good stewards of the resources that God has given us.
It reminds me that all that we have and all that we are is at God’s disposal. It reminds me that even in these tough economic times, there’s no excuse to cut God out of the equation.
I believe this girl gave me more than just a nickel that day. She taught me a powerful lesson on what it means to give, no matter where we are in life, no matter what our circumstances and no matter how much (or how little) we think we have that’s of any worth.
Melissa Yosua-Davis serves in the New England Conference and blogs at mellanella.blogspot.com, where this column first appeared.
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I believe this girl gave me more than just a nickel that day. She taught me a powerful lesson on what it means to give, no matter where we are in life, no matter what our circumstances and no matter how much (or how little) we think we have that’s of any worth. 
