There's a small frame on the wall inside the Arthur Pritchard Hall, just by the oak doors, where everybody sees it on their way in.

Gerald Pike put it there.

He told me the story at the pensioners' lunch.

“When Felicity read out your twenty pounds that day in the porch,” he said, “and everyone laughed, I felt ashamed. I didn't say anything. I should have. But I kept the note. I don't know why. I put it in my desk drawer instead of paying it into the bank.”

He put a twenty-pound note of his own into the fund instead, he said, so the accounts would still add up.

And after the opening, he took my twenty pounds out of the drawer and had it framed. Underneath it, there's a little brass plate. It says:

Given by Joan Pritchard. All she had in her purse that day.

I told him it was too much fuss. He said that was exactly the point.

Children read it on their way to the youth club. Visitors ask about it. Sarah tells the story in her sermons sometimes.

I try not to look at it when I walk past.

But I always touch Arthur's doors.