The story of any one of us is in some measure the story of us all. ~Frederick Buechner

It’s the Small Things

Just small things.

Today was a hard day. My middle son, who has autism, was having a rough day, and my youngest needed lunch. He also needed me to be present, mentally. I was having a tough time with both.

Youngest was not interested in the baked potatoes that were out in the dining room so I asked Gary, the morning cook, to get me some bread to make a peanut butter sandwich. Gary had just sat down to lunch and I hated to ask him, but there was no bread out.

My oldest son says he admires Gary because he is kind and a servant. I love that he has the opportunity to see love in action, the quiet, less flashy person making a difference.

This day, I sat down with the bread Gary had given me and I grabbed one of the half empty jars of donated generic peanut butter. Gary came up behind me, put a different jar on the table, and said, “Here, this is fresher and it’s a better brand, if you ask me.”

My eyes filled with tears.

I was surprised at my reaction to this small gesture, this little kindness. Gary wanted to make sure my son had fresh peanut butter. It is the little things that remind us of God’s tender heart, and His thoughts towards us.

Gary had been up since dawn making grits and eggs and baked potatoes and he took a moment to make sure we had what we needed. Little things with great love. It is those small, tender acts of kindness that make the day , and remind us that God is near, and present in the smallest details of our day.

Rebecca Hill
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