Yesterday in Sunday School, someone brought me a picture. Just a simple gesture, a print he had run off his computer, but it was a picture of several of us who went to Ireland a couple of years go, including his wife and me. There we were, wearing coats against a stone wall of the Cliffs of Moher, everybody cold and happy. Memories flooded back of a magical island of astounding beauty, a stiff wind off the Irish Sea and the excitement of the day. 
A couple of weeks ago, someone from the same Sunday School class called to thank me for dropping by her table and talking with her. Now, how humbling is that? I like to visit with people and I’ve learned that just pausing to say hello, even to those I don’t know, brings a smile. A lot of people are lonely and being friendly doesn’t cost a penny. It’s a little thing but it means a lot.
Of course, a writer’s heart is warmed when readers say they liked her book. Let me tell you, the warm glow it brings has no price tag.
Life is stitched together by little things. When worries or catastrophes or hurts and bumps and bruises fray nerves and rend peace of mind, the small things hold us together, keep us from falling apart. A smile, a warm hug, a phone call, an offer to help–all these things catch up those raveled threads and tuck them back into place.
As the song says, Little Things Mean a Lot.
Speak Your Mind