Charity and Starbursts

Today in church, our Sunday School lesson was on Charity. I was sitting in there thinking that I had a lot of charity for my family and that it is super easy to have charity for people you love. Then, (as I have said before, my mind goes through random paths sometimes) it wandered to candy. Bear with me through this web of pointless stories until we get to the point of the post at the end...
When I was a little kid, my parents owned a gas station. It was a Chevron store named the Quick Stop. Many of you have been there and played Pac Man on blue quarters (quarters that we marked with marker so we could pull them back out and use them again when Dad emptied the bin). Anyway, when we would head out of town to go to Boise or any other place, we always had to stop at the Quick Stop (for a stop that was never "quick") to make sure things were good and to gas up. We always got out of the car and took a bag around the store collecting garbage. It wasn't really something any of us looked forward to, but it did earn us a dollar to buy a treat. I remember painstakingly counting out 94 penny candies (leaving the 6 cents for tax) or getting Mambas because they lasted a long time. Some of the other siblings squandered their money on a candy bar that would be gone in a few seconds. Then they would want me to share...here is where some of the "charity" lesson comes into the story. I never had enough charity to want to share. If I did, it was because Mom asked me to, so a fight would be solved. And even then, I wouldn't want to give away my favorite flavors. For example, the strawberry or raspberry Mambas. They could have orange or lemon, grudgingly. I also clung pretty tightly to the green Swedish fish, or the watermelon penny candies.
Fast forward many years...
I still had a love for candy. I even hid my favorite things around the house because I knew Mike would chow it without savoring it as I would.
Then I had kids. One day I got a bag of Starbursts and was eating them in the kitchen. I admit, I was hiding them in the cupboard and sneaking bites when Jake and Allie were otherwise occupied. As the number of Starbursts dwindled, I was caught. Jake asked for one. If there had been a whole bag, I would have gladly given him a few, but it wasn't a full bag and I was surprised that I willingly gave him one of the last 4 Starbursts. I eat them in color order, least favorite to favorite...red, yellow, orange, pink. Allie soon opened her little bird mouth and begged as well. The pile was down to my last 3 favorite flavors (I had given Jake the cherry, I guess that's not really a sacrifice because it is my least favorite.) When I gave her the lemon willingly, I knew I must really love her. Then Jake asked for the pink...it was tough, but I gave it up.
The point of this story (besides to let you all know how weird I am about candy) is to say that today, as I was sitting in Sunday School, I thought about Starbursts. I love my kids enough to give them the last Starburst in the cupboard. And if Mike wanted it, (and I knew he would enjoy it) I would give it to him too. Now I just need to work on wanting to give every person in this world my favorite Starbursts...because then I would truly have Charity. I'll work on that...anyone want a pink Starburst?