A Heart At Home With God

“Dad, may I have a penny?” he asked. The little boy smiled up at me with his big, blue eyes shining.

“Why do you want a penny?” I asked, although I had a feeling that I already knew, based on similar requests in the past.

“I want a piece of gum,” he replied (I kept a coin-operated bubble gum machine in our den that I used sometimes as an office).

With supper fast approaching, I shook my head as I looked down at him. “No, not right now. Maybe later.” He sighed and walked away glumly while I went on with my own projects.

About ten minutes later, I walked by the door of our den again, only to have my son pop out of the room and run past me. “Son,” I called and he stopped, looking back at me with a peculiar look in his eyes.

“Honey, what were you doing?” I asked him as something like guilt flashed in his expression. “Did you get a piece of gum?” He hesitated and then nodded his head.

“Yes, I did,” he answered. Hmm. Since I hadn’t actually said that he couldn’t have gum, I didn’t feel that I could confront him on that matter alone.

“Where did you get the money for the gum?” I asked.

He paused and then answered, “I found it on the floor by my bed.” Something didn’t quite ring true in what he said so I looked intently into his face, searching for some evidence that would support his claim.