Lost by R.T. Hardwick

‘The text goes: “When he had placed his hands on them, he went on from there,” I gave that sermon last Sunday.’ 

‘I needed comfort.’ 

‘It’s there, in the Bible.’ 

‘I really have to go now.’ 

‘Please remember the offertory - we’re a poor parish.’ 

Stephen took out his wallet and extracted a five-pound note. He folded it and put it in the slot of a crude wooden box that stood on a nearby table. 

‘Thank you, my son. Most generous.’ 

As he left, Stephen said to the vicar: ‘What’s five pounds compared to the life of a lost child?’

Published in Issue #23

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