He loved that hoodie.  She didn’t.  So she donated it to the church garage sale.  He recognized it right away, dangling crooked on a beige hanger, nestled comfortably between a grey Detroit Lions sweatshirt and a black long sleeved tee shouting MACKINAC ISLAND.   His first thought was to buy it, you know, so he’d have a spare.  But then he saw that little yellow uneven dot of mustard plastered on the left cuff and recognized his very own doing, like a birthmark that showed up on an unseasonably cold August weekend up north.  He instantly put it together.  There, sifting through a rack of castoffs and unwanteds, he had discovered and was now holding the sleeve of his favorite hoodie.  Blue.  Frayed.

He owned it.  So he bought it back.

And that’s how an extra 4 bucks was raised for missions.