When God Bought Our Dinner

One of the depressing things about raising a family on a patchwork of minimum wage jobs and preaching was that one never has any money left over for treats.

We were unbelievably lucky in that there was always a roof over our heads,  clothing on our backs, and some sort of food in the kitchen. Millions of parents have raised or are raising sons and daughters without even the assurance that there were be these basic necessities today or tomorrow or next week. But, looking back, I think it bothered Dad at times to see his children growing up without so many of the things that middle-class families take for granted.

As an aside, this was  definitely one of the advantages of being home-schooled and sheltered- so many of our friends were in the same socio-economic position that even now I am at times jerked into realizing once again how dis-similar the lives were of my friends who grew up in solidly middle-class and/or secular home environments when compared to my own. We may speak the same language, have grown up in the same county, country or continent, and maybe even share the same ethnic background. But we are still coming from worlds that have little else in common.

One story sticks out in my mind more than any other. Mom and Dad took us to visit a museum on one of his days off when I was probably about seven or eight. I wish I could remember what the museum was preserving for future generations - all I can recall is the rustle of children trying so desperately to be quiet in an unfamiliar and exciting environment,  the gentle voice of the museum staff member explaining some important bit of history to us, and the tinge of sadness I felt when the tour was finished. I had so hoped it would have lasted a little longer.


As we left the museum Dad found some folded-up money. No one he spoke to was missing any cash so he returned to the car with the oddest expression on his face.

"I found some money," he said. "God gave it to me and I'm taking all of you out to eat." It has been 20-ish years and I can still taste the salt on those french fries. The money Dad found was just enough to pay for some drive-through hamburgers, fries and a few colas so that is what we had for lunch that day.

It had been quite some time since we had been able to afford a treat like that and I quietly wondered why God decided to surprise us that day.  As an adult I wonder if the person who lost that money needed it even more than us. I sincerely hope that she or he never even noticed it was missing.