The Miracle of the Two Quarters

A True Story

Shawn was just fifteen when he came to live with us. We already had a woman from our congregation staying here as she was between jobs and needed a roof over her head. So when David, my pastor husband, came home one evening with this scruffy boy in tow, telling me that he was “going to stay with us for a while,” I was less than thrilled.

Shawn, it seems, was about to be arrested and the officer told my husband that if he didn’t take him in, Shawn was going to jail. (I think he was caught breaking and entering.)

Opal, our houseguest, brightened at the prospect of a young boy to mother and went right to work making him feel at home. He was, after all, not a bad-looking boy. He had a medium build, shaggy brown hair and a shy smile. I could also see that his twinkling blue eyes were dangerously disarming, but I hung back, surveying the situation, not knowing how to reconcile the conflicting feelings I was having. On the one hand, it was the “Christian” thing to do – receive this boy. And more than anything I wanted to serve the Lord by being obedient. After all, Isaiah 58 is our church’s vision:

“Is this not the fast that I have chosen… to share your bread with the hungry … to bring to your house the poor who are cast out?”

But on the other hand, it was a huge imposition. The truth was that we already had one extra mouth to feed … And where was he supposed to sleep? Over the years we had raised five kids but they were long gone and so their bedrooms converted to other uses. Now here we were with one more teenager - and this one, I sensed, was going to be trouble.

The next few days were adjustment times for all of us. Opal continued to lavish love and attention on Shawn, throwing herself into mealtime preparations with unusual gusto, and my husband did his best to balance this new responsibility with his church duties and work. I, however, continued to hang back. I was fighting resentment and not doing too terribly well at hiding it. My prayers felt like lead balloons, falling back down to earth.

Then one Saturday, about a week or so into this arrangement, as I was busily typing the bulletin for the Sunday service, my husband came over to my desk and said he was leaving to conduct a Bible study and that he had given permission for Shawn to go visit a friend up the street. I kissed him good-bye and continued typing. A few minutes later Shawn came to me to say he was leaving to walk to his friend’s house. I said that was fine, I’d see him late, and went back to my typing. I heard the front door open and close.

But suddenly, for some unknown reason, a sense of uneasiness swept over me. I quickly stood up and left my desk. Heading for the dining room, which is situated between my workroom and the front door, I stopped and looked at my pocketbook on the table. Somehow I knew Shawn had just been in my purse! I unzipped it and looked inside. I was right. The checkbook was lying on top, upside down. (I always place it folded side up. A girl knows her pocketbook!) And a simple check of my billfold’s contents revealed that I was missing a $20 bill.

“Well, that figures,” I thought to myself. “That’s just what you get when you take a little thief into your house! Why should I be surprised?”

But I was surprised. And very disappointed, too. I realized then that I had begun to warm to this boy. He really did have a sweet personality, he had begun to fit into our family and was becoming openly affectionate. He seemed genuinely glad to have us in his life. But apparently it was all just an act. Shawn was nothing but a con.

I rushed to the phone to call my husband. I couldn’t wait to tell him what his “pet project” had done! After all, he was the one who had brought this little petty thief into our home, without asking, in the first place! As soon as I got him on the telephone I immediately unloaded; relieved at last to tell him what a failure this little experiment in social work had turned out to be. David sounded surprised at the news but said simply that he’d “take care of it” when he got home. I hung up the phone and went smugly back to my typing and waited for him to come home.

As I’d seen him do so many times with our own children over the years, when some kind of discipline was needed, David took Shawn aside privately that evening and revealed to him that his act was discovered. But, of course, Shawn completely denied it. They spent a long time in discussion with David letting him know that it’s one thing to put one over on us, but it’s quite another to try to put something over on God! Still, Shawn just blew it off.

Of course, I hoped that the boy would suddenly be stricken with conscience and confess, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. And since he was still staying on here, I decided to be more careful about my pocketbook and not give him any more opportunities.

Monday morning I met with several of the women in our church sanctuary for our usual prayer circle. (You can be sure I righteously prayed for Shawn and the whole situation.) These ladies had recently started a little “flower kitty” that each of us made contributions to whenever we met for prayer, so it surprised me when one of the them approached me afterward with her hand extended as though she had something to give me. When I held out my hand, she dropped some money into it! I asked her what it was for and she said the others thought it might come in handy right now since we had two extra mouths to feed at our house. Somehow I felt obliged to accept, so I thanked her, asked her to extend my appreciation to the other women, and headed home.

When I got to the car I counted the kitty change and it came to exactly $19.50. “Wow,” I thought, “God has replaced that twenty dollar bill – or just about!” And it put within me such a heart of thanksgiving that for the next several days, my joy returned. It made me realize how much in touch God is with the problems we deal with on a daily basis. I felt His concern for our situation and that He would provide for all of our needs. I forgot about the stolen money.

Peace was beginning to settle into our home, and despite the fact that Shawn had yet to own up to his crime, we were all getting along pretty well. Opal continued to give him unconditional love and I had come to accept the fact that being a petty thief was just one of his shortcomings but that if his other qualities could be brought out and appreciated, he wasn’t such a bad person. In every other way, he seemed to have a good attitude. I just learned to keep an eye on my purse.

Saturday came around as usual and my mind was filled with the regular routines of the day. But this day was somehow different. Shawn and I were getting closer and my feelings of resentment were quickly fading. He was no longer just some troubled teenager to me but a real person. He was a fifteen-year-old who had suffered too many defeats and disappointments in his young life; someone who had had a lot of good reasons to rebel in the natural. I was learning more about his background and his family life. And it was terribly sad. His older brother had already gone to prison and his parents seemed resigned that this son would end up there as well. They didn’t want him back home and resolutely ignored the fact that he’d moved in with us. They were no doubt glad to be rid of him.

I just wish I could remember more of the details of that day. Looking back on it, I can still feel the joy of victory. Shawn had slept in late. David and Opal had gone down to the church so I was otherwise alone in the house. Somewhere I stumbled onto this little handwritten note “To: Paige” and I instinctively knew it was from Shawn. I just didn’t know what it was all about. I opened the note and it said simply, “Look in the washer.” Curious, I immediately walked to the laundry room and opened the lid to the washing machine. Inside the empty drum was another note “To: Paige” and written inside were instructions to “Look in the dryer.” O.K., I thought, I’ve done this before when I was a kid and loved to play Treasure Hunt. The treasure, when I was young, was always a handful of my grandmother’s homemade oatmeal cookies. But in this case, I hadn’t a clue as to what to expect.

Looking into the empty dryer I spotted a bigger, folded-up piece of paper lying on the bottom and when I lifted it out, I could feel that it was heavy, as though it were wrapped around something bulky. When I unfolded it, to my surprise, there were four dollar bills and two quarters! The note read:

Paige,

Hi. Well I’ll just get down to the main thing. O.K. I know that I stole the 20 from you and I know that I hurt you by doing it but I did repent over it and I do say I’m sorry. I will repay you the $20.00 dollars (sic) as soon as I get (sic), in the mean time hear (sic) is $4.50. I will get the rest of it to you later.

Love,

Shawn

P.S. I was to (sic) ashamed to talk to you about it.

The amount of joy and exhilaration I felt were beyond description. Now I understood what Victory in Jesus meant! There was such a sense of satisfaction in knowing that if we sacrificed some of our time and energy for this young boy in faith, showing him the love of Jesus by our lives, we could hope to see him come to repentance and restoration. Seeds of love had been planted in fertile soil and were now beginning to sprout! This would not be the whole story for Shawn, but at least it was a good beginning. It promised to make going to church the next morning a more meaningful occasion than it had been for me in a long time.

And Sunday morning was glorious. The whole congregation was present and milling about like a stable full of horses, antsy and filled with anticipation. There was a feeling of congeniality, love, appreciation and family. We knew Jesus was there and we welcomed the Holy Spirit. Our little church was growing in numbers and also growing in the Lord. Pastor David (he’s my pastor, as well as my husband!) took the platform and proudly announced that since we were growing so quickly we would begin taking a special offering to purchase a new fiberglass baptismal pool and pointed to an offering can on the stage. Children were designated to collect the change and, on impulse, I remembered the $4.50 – still folded up in my purse where I had placed it the day before. Without fanfare I collected it and motioned for Shawn to come, take my special offering and put it in the can. He did.

We were then standing and Pastor David called out a page number for the first hymn. Out of the corner of my eye I remember seeing a petite lady named Alma leave her seat, from clear across the sanctuary, and make her way toward me, but I paid no special attention. I was thumbing through the hymnal, trying to find the right page. Suddenly I looked up and saw Alma standing in front of me. She spoke these words as she held out her hand:

“I don’t know why, but the Lord just told me to give this to you. It doesn’t seem like very much.” And she seemed genuinely puzzled and half apologetic.

In her hand were two quarters. Without thinking, I accepted her offering, gave her a hug, put the quarters in my jacket pocket, and continued with the song service.

We had invited a few friends over to the house for lunch following church that day, so I didn’t really have an opportunity to reflect on the strange gift from Alma. It wasn’t until after the meal, when I decided to lie down for a few minutes, that the thought of it came flooding back into my mind and I sat straight up in bed!

The Lord has just settled His account with me!

And I nearly missed it!

Upon reflection I realized that had I NOT given the $4.50 to the Lord as an offering for the baptismal pool, more than likely the Lord wouldn’t have given Alma her “special assignment” and I would have missed out on a fabulous miracle and testimony. By adding those two quarters to the monies from the “flower kitty,” the Lord effectively replaced the entire stolen $20 bill!

I believe this miracle has a very simple explanation. But it would only have meaning for me. You see, I am not as easily given to acts of charity as my husband. For as long as I’ve known him he has been blessed with a very caring, loving nature and possesses a true pastor’s heart. He can forgive very easily and is long-suffering. Jesus is always first in his life. I, on the other hand, tend to be cynical, with one foot usually planted firmly in the world. It takes a lot of effort for the Lord to do anything – it seems – in my life. This time, however, because I made the effort to let the Lord work in my life, instead of resisting Him - which is the natural tendency - He rewarded me, sending a miracle intended to let me know that no one would ever successfully defraud me or take advantage of me, as long as I was obedient and attempted to do His will!

I would hope this testimony would encourage others to step out and become more involved with some of the most needy, lost people of our communities. As Christians, we should stop worrying that somehow we’re going to lose something or be done out of something. God is well able to finance any assignment He hands out. Shawn was handed to us. The Lord made sure we wouldn’t live to regret it.

February 9, 2004