So today I’m sitting with my grandma and she tells me a story. And I’ll relate it to you, probably somewhat inaccurately.
She when she was young, she earned money by babysitting. She got a whole 25 cents an hour to babysit. And then she would take 10% of that money and put it into a place in order to pay her tithing. They would line up and pay it every so often.
Before she went to college, she saved and saved all of her money. And she finally was able to save up $300. This money would cover tuition and books, and basically everything she needed for school.
She had a bank book, to keep track of the money in her bank, and she put the money in the bank book and was riding on the bus one day. It was on her lap, with the money sticking out, and when she got off the bus and went home, it was gone.
She had a date, so she couldn’t go back and look for it. She had to go on her date. She did not pay attention at all, just thinking about where all of her hard-earned money could have gone to.
When she got home, they called the bus people, and she managed to remember the number of the bus, but they hadn’t found anything in it. She and her dad went to the bus station to look at the bus, but it wasn’t there.
She was hopeful that it would turn up. She went to church, and after she had left, she realized that she hadn’t paid her tithing. She needed to. So she went back and she got her tithing, and she went and paid it.
After paying her tithing, she fully expected the money to show up. She was walking with a friend home, and she decided to walk up to where the bus stop was. She kicked some snow around, trying to find it.
And there, right on the top of the snow, was her bank book. There were footsteps all around it, where people had gotten on and off the bus after she had dropped it.
But the bank book and all the money were right there waiting for her, as if someone had kept it and held it and then put it back down so she could find it.
And that was my grandma’s story.