Pure Gold

“Does this shirt go with this suit?” my husband asked as he was getting ready for church Sunday morning. I assured him the pale blue shirt with the faint pin stripes went with the dark blue suit he had chosen. Just as we ready to go out the door, he exclaimed, “I can’t wear this shirt! I have to wear yellow!” Oh, no, I thought. Today was the third Sunday, BGMC day, when we were all requested to wear something yellow, if possible, to go with the theme of the yellow “Buddy Barrels” of coins collected every month for the children’s missionary effort.

Soon Howard had on a jarringly yellow shirt that didn’t go, but it was too late to change his whole outfit. I had no trouble wearing the right color in warm weather, but none of my winter clothes were yellow, so I would just wear the special yellow pin with the emblem on it. When we first started to this church, I couldn’t imagine why I walked into a sea of yellow one Sunday. Almost everyone was wearing that color. The next month I fit in, because I had worn my Easter dress with the pale yellow bolero and the splashes of yellow on the dark skirt. It was purely accidental, though.

“I didn’t wear yellow today because it’s not the third Sunday,” primly announced an octogenarian on my row. “It’s only the fifteenth of the month!” she said. I told her I had thought that, too, but it was, since the first was on a Sunday this month.

Our collection was off to a good start, and the leaders, a husband and wife team, were still beaming over our having surpassed our goal for last year. A good portion of the offering would go to drilling water wells in Africa, a fact made more meaningful when it was mentioned that someone who had grown up in our city actually works with the drilling company who puts in the wells for the destitute people over there. We were reminded that the offering opportunity would be extended to the evening service, also.

That evening, as the leaders took their place at the front, a smile came over the face of the wife as her glance fell on someone near the front row. “You know we have suggested wearing yellow if you can, to support our project,” she said to the congregation. “Jose, would you mind standing?” All eyes turned to a quiet, shyly smiling man, who was a bit irregular in attendance and whose English was a little hard to understand. He had on a brand new pale yellow dress shirt with a beautiful contrasting silk tie in a deeper yellow shade! He fairly glowed with pleased embarrassment at the attention, his black hair setting off the outfit handsomely. I would try harder next month!