“And thank you, God, for everything. Good-night, God.”
“Someday I’d like to give something to God.”
“We do give things to God everyday, honey. We just gave our prayers to God. When we do things that are right, that’s a gift to God, too.”
“I know, but I mean really give Him something. Something, well maybe ...”
Katie’s eyes began to sparkle as she flipped her three-year-old frame over on her side, balancing her head in the palm of her hand and said, “I know, we could make cookies for God!”
“What kind of cookies do you think God likes best?” I asked.
“Chocolate chip. Chocolate chip.” And the echo, “chocolate chip.”
“Tomorrow then,” I said as I kissed both Doug and Katie good night.
“Mommy?” questioned Doug.
“Do you think we could make some cookies for us too?”
“I think God would like that, Doug. Good-night.”
Baking is not one of my specialties and it truly is a treat when I whip up a batch of cookies. For Doug and Katie to want to share them with anyone was surprising in itself.
The following morning the three of us trooped off to the grocery store to purchase the ingredients for God’s, Doug’s, and Katie’s cookies.
We spent the afternoon baking, and when the cookies were done and at least half gone, I suggested that the children each wrap one in clear, plastic wrap. We tied a ribbon around the two chocolate chip treasures and made our best curly bows.
“I have some little tags. What do you think I should write on them?” I questioned.
“To God, from Katie.”
“From me too,” chimed Doug.
“Okay. On one I’ll put ‘To God, Love, Katie’ and on the other one I’ll put ‘To God, Love, Doug.’ There, how do they look?”
“Good. But Mommy?”
“How will God get them?”
“I thought that maybe we could take them up to the church.”
“The big church (sanctuary), you mean?” asked Doug.
“Yes. We could put them on the long worship table in front where we put the offering each Sunday.”
The Sanctuary was locked when we reached the church so we went into the office and got the key from the secretary.
“We have something to leave for God,” I announced to Marilyn, the secretary. “We’ll bring the key back when we’re done. Maybe then you’d like to see what we’re leaving on the worship table.” I nodded and gave Marilyn the eye, attempting to get the message across that perhaps she could get the cookies after we had gone.
We sat down in the first pew and said a little prayer. Then Doug and Katie each went up and put their cookie on the corner of the long, maple worship table.
“Will He get them now, Mommy?”
“Well, God doesn’t have to taste them to know that they are meant for Him. He’ll know how much you love Him because you wanted to give them to Him.”
The next Sunday morning as my husband and I entered church, (Doug and Katie were in the nursery) I was astonished to see the two little wrapped packages still sitting on the corner of the table along with the offering trays.
The deacons approached the table at the time of the offering. As they did so, one of them picked up the two carefully wrapped gifts. Before the offering trays were passed around, he turned to the congregation and read the tags aloud. “To God, Love, Katie. To God, Love, Doug. It looks as though two little Harrington’s have been hard at work,” he said, as he gently placed God’s cookies first, in the morning’s offering.