Widow's mite transript.doc

							     The widow’s mite


     Alfie watched the girl’s trembling hand. It had
     grasped the little coil of metal and now it was moving
     slowly – very slowly – along the wire. Her hand
     paused, fingers clenched on the handle…then edged
     on again. ‘She won’t do it,’ thought Alfie. ‘She’s
     shaking too much. Any second now.’
     And sure enough a moment later…


FX   BUZZER


     …the buzzer sounded and Alfie said with a broad grin
     on his face: ‘That’ll be fifty pence please!’


     It was evening of the Summerhill Youth Centre
     fair…and Alfie was doing his bit to raise some much-
     needed money. He’d brought in one of his favourite
     toys from home. ‘What a great idea!’ said Mr Davis,
     who ran the Youth Centre, when Alfie arrived with it
     under his arm. It was one of those games where you
     have to keep your hand really steady as you try to
     move the metal circle along the wire – over bumps
     and round loops – all the way to the end. But if the
     metal circle touches the wire even for a moment…


FX   BUZZER


     …the buzzer sounds and the game is over.
     ‘Another 50p. Well done, Alfie,’ called his mother
     from the tombola stall, which was next to his own.
     ‘That game’s a little gold mine!’ she said. ‘I’m sure
     we’ll raise enough money for the repairs to this place.
     Just look at the state of it. Terrible.’


     ‘Hope so,’ said Alfie. And he really did hope so. He
     looked up at the broken window on the opposite wall,
     now boarded up with wood and tape. How good it
     would be if they could repair that window he
     thought…then perhaps he could stop feeling so bad
     about it. But it had been Steve’s fault really. It was
     Steve who’d brought the football inside the Youth
     Centre and had started kicking it around when he
     knew he wasn’t supposed to. It was Steve who’d told
     Alfie to have a kick. Just one kick, and –


FX   WINDOW SMASH


     Alfie hadn’t known what to say or what to do. He
     looked at the coins in his box and began to add them
     up…five pounds…ten…fifteen…nearly twenty
     pounds. He’d have nearly twenty pounds to give Mr
     Davis when the fair was over. Perhaps that would
     even pay for the window. Well…he would have
     twenty pounds…so long as nobody won the jackpot.
     But that wasn’t going to happen!
Alfie got thinking. It was a bit like that story they’d
learnt about in school that day. From the bible it was.
The widow’s mite. A mite. What an unusual name for
a coin!’


In the story Jesus was in the temple watching as a
group of wealthy people gave their money for charity
– lots and lots of it. And then an old lady had come
forward and given just two coins – two mites – hardly
anything. ‘With my twenty pounds I’m just like one
of those rich people,’ thought Alfie. Then he thought
about the old lady. ‘I’m not like her,’ he thought…
‘she had almost nothing to give.’


Another boy stood in front of Alfie. It was Steve.
‘This looks easy,’ he said. ‘How much?’


‘Fifty pence a turn,’ said Alfie. ‘Make it all the way
to the end and you win the jackpot – fifteen pounds.’


‘You’re on,’ said Steve and he picked up the metal
loop.


Alfie watched Steve’s hand. It didn’t tremble like the
others had done. He longed to hear the sound of the
buzzer…
The last loop. If Steve could get through this he’d
have done it – the jackpot would be his – and what
would Alfie have… …he’d have almost nothing to
give Mr Davis. Go on, buzzer, thought Alfie. Go on.


But the buzzer didn’t sound. Steve carefully rounded
the last loop and placed the handle down. Alfie didn’t
speak. He felt hot…like his face had gone red…like
he was holding back tears. ‘It was for the window,’
was all he managed to say.


Steve took the money - though he didn’t seem very
happy about it – and disappeared into the crowd.


‘I can’t believe it,’ said Alfie. ‘Just a minute ago I had
nearly twenty pounds. Twenty pounds to give Mr
Davis. And now what I have got? Three pounds fifty!
What can you do with three pounds fifty? Nothing!’
he said.


‘It doesn’t matter if it’s three pounds fifty,’ said his
mum. It doesn’t really matter if it’s one pound
fifty…or just two pence. What matters is that you’ve
done it…it’s your contribution…nobody else’s.’


Something about what she said made Alfie think.
What was it his teacher had said about that bible story
– The widow’s mite…? She had said that it showed
Jesus was more interested in what was in the heart of
the giver than the size of the gift…
Alfie looked at the money in his tin. ‘Three pounds
fifty,’ he said, feeling uncertain.


‘Excellent,’ said Mr Davis, ‘that’s what we like to
hear!’


‘It’s not very much,’ said Alfie.


‘Nonsense,’ said Mr Davis. ‘Every little helps! And
do you know,’ he went on, ‘the strangest thing just
happened. I had a great pile of coins given to me by
Steve. Said he’d won them on your stall. And he
muttered something about repairing the window. You
know, Alfie,’ he said, ‘I think you’ve done even
better than you know.’


Alfie smiled…and then he gave his money to Mr
Davis. Perhaps they would get that window mended
after all.