Rich and Poor

We were in Walmart, having just come from the dermatologists office, where I had been expecting that Joshua would have to get a skin biopsy.

I had tried to prepare the kids on the way there, so they wouldn't be too horrified by the procedure. I explained what would probably happen in a matter-of-fact way and answered their questions, and then I thought of one other thing.

"Oh, and if he does have to have a biopsy, we probably won't be able to go swimming for a few days."

Silence.

And then from the back of the van, Caleb piped up, "I think we better pray about this."

Happily, the dermatologists were not concerned and saw no reason to biopsy. After a short and sweet appointment, we headed to Walmart to pick up a few things.

Now, here's how visits to Walmart usually go for us. There's lots of asking and begging for Mom to please buy this or that - "Please, please, just this one thing. I will never ask for anything again as long as I live!" - and lots of Mom saying no.

On one occasion, after her requests were constantly turned down, Grace demanded the truth.

"Are we poor?" she wanted to know.

Somewhere there is probably an instruction manual on how to respond to these questions. I should check it out.

I think I said something to the effect that we weren't poor, but if we started buying everything we wanted, then we would be poor.

On our next trip to the store, Caleb was begging me for something when Grace burst out, "Stop it, Caleb! For heaven's sakes, do you want to be poor?"

But on this particular trip to Walmart, everyone was in high spirits. We had expected to spend the morning watching Joshua get skin sliced off, but instead we were strolling the aisles looking at all the wonderful things.

"Mom, if I save my allowance every week, how long will it take me to earn enough money for that?" Caleb asked me.

"You'll be in college."

"Can you give me a loan? I promise I'll pay you back."

And then Grace found little unfinished trucks for 88 cents. "What about these, Mom? We could paint them this afternoon."

A cheap toy and an afternoon project! To the delight of my children, I let them each pick one out.

On the way out of the store, Caleb held his new 88 cent prize with a contented look on his face.

"You know," he said happily, "I really am rich. I have bunk beds, God answers my prayers, and now I get to paint my own truck!"

Not to mention a thankful heart.

You don't get much richer than that.