Chapters (62)
- Cover
- A PENNY
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- A Sample Chapter of Don’t Take Any Wooden Nickels
- About the Author
- Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark
- About the Publisher
“What you really should have a problem with,” Gwen said softly to her husband, “is the American people. As a whole, they don’t respond to intellectual information. Tell them some remote village somewhere needs a well or an irrigation system, and forget it. But show them a hungry child, and they’re there. They give their money based purely on emotion.”
“Yeah,” Frank agreed. “You know what they say in this business, Callie? They say, ‘You wanna build a well? You won’t collect a dime until you’ve given that well an adorable face with pouting lips and big sad eyes.’”
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
I was heading outside for some fresh air when I happened to glance at Marion. Our eyes met through the crowd, and she waved me over, so I abandoned my plans for a moment and went to join her.
When I got there, I was surprised to see her standing with her pastor, Ian Quinn.
“Pastor,” I said, my surprise evident. He nodded at me.
“Ian was just asking about you,” Marion continued. “He didn’t realize you were with the J.O.S.H.U.A. Foundation.”
“You should’ve told me you worked for Tom this afternoon, child,” he said, taking my hand. “I might not’ve kicked you out quite so abruptly.”
“You’re familiar with Tom and the foundation?” I asked.
“You have no idea!” he cried, beaming. “Let me tell you what you people have done for us. And call me Ian, please.”
Glad to see that the pastor and I had connected, Marion excused herself and then turned to face another grouping of people.
“I’d love to hear about it,” I said, “but if I don’t get some fresh air very soon, I’m afraid I’ll pass out.”
“It is a bit crowded in here,” he replied, taking my arm. “What do you say we go for a walk outside?”
The warm air soothed me like a balm. I breathed it in slowly, feeling my heart return to a steady, even rhythm. So far, I had been holding up very well, but I didn’t want to push it too far. I took Ian’s arm, and we walked through the parking lot and out onto the sidewalk beyond. It was a clear night, full of stars. Light from bright street lamps spilled down onto the strip of closed shops surrounding us.
“Is it safe here at night?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” said Ian. “I think we can walk to the end of the streetlights and back.”
That we did, strolling the blocks with ease. Ian told me all about his soup kitchen, about the money from Tom that got it all started. I listened with interest because this had taken place several years before I came to work for Tom.