Little Hands, Big Hearts
Lessons from a Morning of Giving
The morning begins early with a surprise storm stampeding through our neighborhood. The thunder and lightning rouse our two grandchildren. They’re not scared, but they are awake.
Very awake.
Through bleary eyes, I murmur for them to go back to bed so Papa can grab a little more shut-eye. This lasts about five minutes before they’re back in my bedroom, clamoring to watch Peppa Pig.
The storm has stopped, but clouds still fill my groggy brain as I cover the grandkids in blankets and turn on the TV. Soon they are hypnotized by cartoon animals speaking in British accents.
I visit my faithful friend in the corner of the kitchen, Mr. Keurig, who makes coffee for me every morning.
Soon, my wife staggers out, greeting everyone in a croaky voice. I make an omelet and sausage breakfast and then we all get ready to go to church.
It’s the first Saturday of the month, which means Farmer’s Market — a ministry that distributes free produce to people in need. But first, we load a Playmate cooler with cold bottles of water and pick up an order of breakfast tacos, a little treat for the folks who show up early and wait in line. The tacos are our way of saying, “We see you, and we care.” It’s a small gesture, but it makes a big impact.
Our grandkids squeal with excitement as we pull into the church parking lot. They can’t wait to help.
Volunteers have already set up tables. They are empty now, but soon will bear bags of carrots and potatoes, as well as boxes of tomatoes, apples, bananas, onions, and iceberg lettuce. One of our church members, Gideon, has neatly stacked pocket Bibles at the end of the table, both in Spanish and English.
We tumble out of the car. The Texas heat is squatting over us like a Sumo wrestler, already heavy with humidity. The grandkids don’t seem to care. They follow me and my wife like ducklings, eager to hand out water and tacos. Some of our clientele are Latino. A few, with a smile, say, “Gracias.” I tell my granddaughter to reply with “De nada.” She does it shyly, but it brings great joy to all of us.
“If anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.” Jesus said those words in Matthew 10:42 as He dispatched His disciples on a mission.
What would be the reward? A heavenly prize, a spiritual blessing, special recognition by God?
I don’t think our grandkids have processed it all theologically. They just know that they are doing an act of kindness with the church that their Papa and Mimi attend.
For them, for now, that is enough.
Want to join the ranks of armchair theologians? Write with us