Fun-loving twin boys sit in the pew in front of us at church. Mom and Dad keep the kids quiet with a steady diet of crackers, juice and lollipops. Seeing them snacking each Sunday takes me back to when I was five year old kid in my childhood congregation in Chatham, Ontario. Feeding kids at church isn’t a new fad; even back in the 80s, Mom kept me busy with a parade of animal crackers.
A type-A, easily embarrassed youth, I’ll never forget the flushed feeling I got in my face the time I accidentally put a left fist-full of animal crackers in the offertory basket instead of the right fist-full of loose change from Mom’s purse. Bashful from my mistake and from the friendly comment from the usher, I made the switch and then slid close to Mom’s comforting side.
She leaned down and quietly whispered, “The offering goes to help people in need and some of those people don’t have enough to eat. Animal crackers, or any food for that matter, makes a fine offering.”
I smiled bashfully as I bit the head off another giraffe.