Abby enjoys money. She doesn't enjoy it for its purchasing power, she just appreciates the feel, the smell, the look of money. For Christmas she received a twenty in the mail from her Grandpa Kelley. She had no plans to use it; she just liked having it.
We entered the Bishop's office and took our seats. I felt disaster was imminent. The poor unsuspecting Bishop asked Abby, "Are you a full tithe payer?" A simple question.
"Sometimes," she whispered, turning towards the wall. The Bishop looked at us and we just shrugged. We'd tried. It was his turn.
"Don't you think you should be a full tithe payer all the time?" He said it very gently.
"I want to keep my money," and her chin started to quiver. Her shoulders moved up and down. And then she sobbed. Loud, wailing sobs.
I attempted to comfort Abby and the Bishop turned his attention to Madeline. He asked her some general tithing questions, possibly to educate her younger sister on the finer points of the ten percent tithe. Madeline answered loudly over the din of her sister. "When you pay your tithing you're telling the Lord that you're willing to make a sacrifice." Abby screamed louder.
The Bishop moved onto the rest of the family. All proceeded without incident and the mood was lightening. Abby had down-graded from sobbing to quiet weeping when Maya loudly passed gas. Her offering. We asked the Bishop if we could possibly exit, re-enter, and try again. A tithing settlement do-over.
In the end the Bishop never got his two dollars. At least he hasn't gotten it yet.