In the first parish I served there lived an elderly widow.  She lived alone, except for about a hundred parakeets.  She supplemented her meager income from her late husband’s Social Security by raising and selling those popular birds.  Her health was none too good, and during the cold winter months she was rarely able to make it out to church on Sunday mornings, so I tried to visit her as often as possible.  I recall making one visit on a cold wintry day.  We talked about many things, read the Bible together, and had a moment of prayer.  As I was about to leave, she stopped me.  “Pastor,” she said, “I haven’t been able to get to church much lately.  This has been a hard winter for me.  But I have kept up my offering envelopes, and I wonder if you would be so kind to take them back to the c…