We’re in a new season at our house. One in which our wee girl isn’t quite as small anymore, carries her own hot-pink sequined purse, and requests one thing almost daily: a trip to the thrift store. It has become her most sought-after reward for almost anything.

For real. I have spent so many hours walking through our local thrift stores lately that I know some of the volunteers and staff.

Last week, after paying for a stuffed horse she’d had her eye on (and scored for $1 instead of $12.99 at another store – stewardship lessons, right?), my tender-hearted lovie pulled two dollars out of her purse, and quickly put it into the donation box at the cash register. Every time she buys something with her own money, she dashes her hand out and puts a bit of money into that box. Right now, it’s to purchase toothpaste for children through the MCC. She’s so proud to give, and we fully support the work of the MCC. She sees us give and knows it is important to us as a family.

It revealed her generous heart. And, more surprisingly (to me, at least), it revealed my own fears.

When I watched her drop that two-dollar coin in the donation box, my heart sank.

Allowance in our house works this way – on Saturday, you get an allowance of half your age (so, $3, currently). A portion of that has to go to separate piggy banks – one for saving, and one for giving. Every week, our girl is left with $2 to spend.

As she put her whole week’s allowance to others, my first thought, to my shame, was about how she gave it all and had nothing left. My gut-reaction was to feel a bit fearful about what she’d do when she realized she’d given all she had and couldn’t get it back. (This had happened when she had her first “regretted” purchase a few months ago and it was not pretty – lots of weeping and regret.) I was a bit sad for her, thinking she might be disappointed. Honestly? I was fearful over two measly dollars. However, she was not sad one bit. She was not afraid of not having enough. In fact, she was grinning and happy.

When my response was to give in to fear, I forgot that our desire is not for our daughter to just be a good steward and plan out her giving, but for this girl of ours to be intentionally generous. Whole-life generous. I forgot that it is a precious thing to learn that the provision of God far outpaces our giving. I’ve seen it over and over again. I forgot that I want her to learn and see that we do not just give out of our overflow, but out of our everything.

I forgot about another well-remembered woman who gave her two coins…

While Jesus was in the Temple, he watched the rich people dropping their gifts in the collection box. Then a poor widow came by and dropped in two small coins.[a]

“I tell you the truth,” Jesus said, “this poor widow has given more than all the rest of them. For they have given a tiny part of their surplus, but she, poor as she is, has given everything she has.”
(Luke 21: 1- 4 NLT)

The truth is, my girl lacks for nothing. Everything she has is a gift of grace, of provision. She doesn’t really “earn” that allowance. It’s a tool for teaching her how to use money wisely. How to be a steward of what she’s been given. She is learning. I am learning too.

You know the most amazing thing? A couple days later, a grandma-like lady walked up to my generous girl and handed her two brass-coloured coins. Two dollars. And told her to give it away. Because God works like that, doesn’t He? “Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full–pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap.” (Luke 6:38 NLT) We might not see this the way we would imagine it to be given, or in our timing, or anything that makes sense to us, but He keeps His word.

I still have so much to learn.

I forget that I’m still learning that same lesson our girl is. A lesson that says that I have been given much more than I could ever need. That I have nothing to fear. That God’s generosity to me allows me to be intentionally generous to others. That regardless of how much or how little I have, it can be used and multiplied to bless and encourage others. I’m still learning that it’s better to be the Widow with her two mites than to give stingily, fearfully, from my surplus. I’m learning that small actions with great faith and great joy – like dropping a coin in a box, are big in the Kingdom.

And I’m learning that my daughter has a lot to teach me.

Lord, may it be so.