Santa Clara Review, Vol. 96, Issue 1

Page 41

Scooby was unfortunately absent from the vocals this time. When the offering plate came around, I reached into my wallet to figure what I could part with, and all I found were two-dollar bills. I placed all seventeen into the plate as discreetly as I could, but my grandfather saw them and knew something was up. “Have a good weekend?” he whispered. “Yessir,” I said. “I think so.”

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