This morning, I went to mass with my youngest son. Of those that were up, only he desired to go; and so we went. When it came time for the offering, I drew out my wallet uncertain and having little clue what might be there.
Five dollars, all ones; I grabbed them all and arranged them into semblance of an order from the crumpled and folded mess I found them then handed them to my son for when offering plate arrived. Seeing me with money, he teased me knowing that I rarely speak or show much interest for money.
Dollars in hand, he called me out for my hypocrisy, ”You said you never have money!”
“I’m out now,” I assured in counter to his jest and restoring myself back to condition of truth on which he challenged my word.
It is interesting what children hear in our efforts at lessons that, when spoken, we doubt are given attention—let alone absorbed. Insinuating foolishness of spending, he challenged me again using my own words, “But you say to save your money because one day you will want something big and need it, and if you spend it now, you won’t have it. Why did you spend all your money?”
“Maybe what I want isn’t money,” I answered, “besides…” I paused, doing my best to win semantic spar started and thus far carried by a seven-year old, “I’m investing in blessings…”
Vanquished by a term I have no doubt he absorbed and will soon use against me, he asked, “What’s investing in blessings?”
How do we explain something known, unquestioned in heart, but that we lack ability to define? If I ever receive such talent, I will consider myself both a blessed and gifted writer: blessed, for to have such worded clarity for mystery is a gift, given; not something attained through practice alone (I know because I try).
Without answer, I smiled and redirected his attention back to words of the offeratory song.
*****
After mass, we went fishing. Believing we caught only enough for a small pre-dinner snack, we discovered we had more than we could eat; and like the miracle of Jesus feeding the thousands, we ended with more than that with which we conceivably began.
In our time at pond, lee lost far more in cost of lures and tackle than our five dollars to the offering plate. It was a beautiful Sunday: fishing, teaching, discovering life lessons that rise and present when you don’t seek but allow the unexpected to be asked and, even more surprising, learn that you hold answer.
Five dollars—what little I had and carried—and, already, the investment yields return: blessing as time and moment lived with ones I love.