Shirley, a family friend, gave each of her three small children a quarter and when the collection basket was passed, Shirley, in a quiet church voice, instructed them to donate their quarters. Robby, the youngest, reluctantly did so, but not without objecting in a voice loud enough to be heard in the back pews. “What are we paying for?” he asked.

Shirley, embarrassed by the unwanted attention, tried to quiet Robby by shushing him over the giggles of nearby parishioners. Robby was quieted, but unsatisfied, because later when Shirley received communion, Robby, in a voice still loud enough to delight everyone nearby, and in the assumed role as spokesperson for his two older siblings, asked: “If we paid for this, how come we didn’t get any?”

Robby’s questions should be kept in mind when we review the proposed budget to educate our schoolchildren. “What are we paying for?” and even more important, “If we paid for this, how come we didn’t get any?” If we do ask, it is unlikely we’ll get a worthwhile answer, unlikely we’ll be told that our local education process is faulty, that our students will leave high school handicapped. Instead, we’ll be told that more money is needed, as if money has become the panacea for all problems. Or, maybe, we’ll just be shushed.

Richard Sabine, Lewiston