The Rich Family in our Church
by Eddie Ogan
I'll never forget Easter 1946. I was 14, my little sister
Ocy, 12, and my older sister Darlene, 16. We lived at home with
our mother, and the four of us knew what it was to do without many
things. My dad had died 5 years before, leaving Mom with seven
school kids to raise and no money. By 1946 my older sisters were
married, and my brothers had left home.
A month before Easter, the pastor of our church announced that a
special Easter offering would be taken to help a poor family. He
asked everyone to save and give sacrificially. When we got home, we talked
about what we could do. We decided to buy 50 pounds of potatoes and
live on them for a month. This would allow us to save $20 of our
grocery money for the offering. Then we thought that if we kept our
electric lights turned out as much as possible and didn't listen to the
radio, we'd save money on that month's electric bill. Darlene got as
many house and yard cleaning jobs as possible, and both of us baby sat
for everyone we could. For 15 cents, we could buy enough cotton loops
to make three potholders to sell for $1. We made $20 on potholders.
That month was one of the best of our lives. Every day we counted
the money to see how much we had saved. At night we'd sit in the dark
and talk about how the poor family was going to enjoy having the money
the church would give them. We had about 80 people in church, so we
figured that whatever amount of money we had to give, the offering
would surely be 20 times that much. After all, every Sunday the
Pastor had reminded everyone to save for the sacrificial offering.
The day before Easter, Ocy and I walked to the grocery store and
got the manager to give us three crisp $20 bills and one $10 bill for
all our change. We ran all the way home to show Mom and Darlene. We
had never had so much money before. That night we were so excited we
could hardly sleep. We didn't care that we wouldn't have new clothes
for Easter; we had $70 for the sacrificial offering. We could hardly
wait to get to church!
On Sunday morning, rain was pouring. We didn't own an umbrella,
and the church was over a mile from our home, but it didn't seem to
matter how wet we got. Darlene had cardboard in her shoes to fill the
holes. The cardboard came apart, and her feet got wet. But we sat in
church proudly. I heard some teenagers talking about the Smith girls
having on their old dresses. I looked at them in their new clothes,
and I felt so rich.
When the sacrificial offering was taken, we were sitting on the
second row from the front. Mom put in the $10 bill, and each of us
girls put in a $20. As we walked home after church, we sang all the
way. At lunch Mom had a surprise for us. She had bought a dozen
eggs, and we had boiled Easter eggs with our fried potatoes!
Late that afternoon the minister drove up in his car. Mom went to the
door, talked with him for a moment, and then came back with an envelope in
her hand. We asked what it was, but she didn't say a word. She opened the
envelope and out fell a bunch of money. There were three crisp $20 bills,
one $10 and seventeen $1 bills. Mom put the money back in the envelope.
We didn't talk, just sat and stared at the floor. We had gone from feeling
like millionaires to feeling like poor white trash.
We kids had had such a happy life that we felt sorry for anyone who
didn't have our mom and dad for parents and a house full of brothers and
sisters and other kids visiting constantly. We thought it was fun to
share silverware and see whether we got the fork or the spoon that
night. We had two knives which we passed around to whoever needed
them. I knew we didn't have a lot of things that other people had,
but I'd never thought we were poor. That Easter Day I found out we
The minister had brought us the money for the poor family, so we
must be poor. I didn't like being poor. I looked at my dress and
worn-out shoes and felt so ashamed that I didn't want to go back to
church. Everyone there probably already knew we were poor! I thought
about school. I was in the ninth grade and at the top of my class of
over 100 students. I wondered if the kids at school knew we were
poor. I decided I could quit school since I had finished the eighth grade.
That was all the law required at that time.
We sat in silence for a long time. Then it got dark, and we went
to bed. All that week, we girls went to school and came home, and no
one talked much. Finally on Saturday, Mom asked us what we wanted to
do with the money. What did poor people do with money? We didn't
know. We'd never known we were poor. We didn't want to go to church on
Sunday, but Mom said we had to. Although it was a sunny day, we didn't
talk on the way.
Mom started to sing, but no one joined in and she only sang one
verse. At church we had a missionary speaker. He talked about how
churches in Africa made buildings out of sun-dried bricks, but they
need money to buy roofs. He said $100 would put a roof on a church.
The minister said, "Can't we all sacrifice to help these poor people?"
We looked at each other and smiled for the first time in a week.
Mom reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope. She passed it
to Darlene. Darlene gave it to me, and I handed it to Ocy. Ocy put it
in the offering. When the offering was counted, the minister announced that it was a little over $100. The missionary was excited. He hadn't expected such a large
offering from our small church. He said, "You must have some rich people
in this church."
Suddenly it struck us! We had given $87 of that "little over $100." *We*
were the rich family in the church!
Hadn't the missionary said so?
From that day on I've never been poor again.