First they sort it into two piles, and then each child takes possession of a pile. My photo caught the kids in the middle of the first division. Then each child must divide their pile into some for their bank and some for their offering.Apparently each coin must be individually examined. I was amazed at how long this process took this morning.
Once the children had all the dividing accomplished and they were stuffing their banks and offering envelopes a distant memory of mine came to the surface of my consciousness.
When Gene and I were little we lived in a parsonage. The parsonage adjoined the church through a door in a hallway. When it was time for Sunday School, mom would open the lock and we would scoot through the door to church. But as we went through, she would give me a dime and give Gene a nickel for our Sunday School offerings.
This did not sit well with me. A nickel was obviously bigger than a dime. And I was the older child. How unfair!!! Every single Sunday, as we headed down the wide stairs to the Sunday school rooms in the church basement, I would demand Gene's nickel of him--and give him that little dime in trade.
As I think back on this now, I remember that my brother never balked at the trade or told on me or anything. I wonder, did he know?
