This week was "Give the coat off your back" Sunday, when we were supposed to wear a coat to church, then during the service we would donate it to a group that works with homeless people Downtown. The idea, I think, was to keep people from donating tattered and stained coats--we had to be willing to wear it to church, so it had to be presentable. And ideally, people would go home feeling what it's like to be without a coat for a few minutes, identifying briefly with the plight of the poor.

My husband and I found some coats in good condition and wore them to church. During the service, it occurred to me that I might have left something in the pockets, so as quietly as possible I unzipped them and fished around. In a small, upper pocket I found two dollar bills. I pulled them out and handed them to Phil, whispering, "From my coat." He nodded slightly and tucked them in his pants pocket.

Soon it was time for the closing hymn, when people could walk their coats to the front of the sanctuary and place them on the steps. I sent Phil with both coats.

After church, as we got into the car, he said, "You know, as I was walking up to the front, it occurred to me that I should have checked my pockets. I thought, 'Ann found two dollars--I wonder what was in mine?' Maybe it was a credit card, or some keys."

"It's been over a year since you last wore it. If it was a credit card, you would have known it. Whatever was in there you obviously don't need. Whatever it is, it's soon to be the property of someone Downtown, so don't worry about it anymore. Besides, it's not like you to leave things in your pockets."

"I know, but it's also not like me not to check my pockets, either. But by the time I thought of it, I was up there, tossing the coat onto the pile. It didn't seem like the best time to check."

Still later, I realized I should have left the cash. I should have let two dollars become the property of someone Downtown.