Today, like every other Friday, I woke up and went to deliver flowers with a friend. Instead of it being with San Aye, who has been delivering flowers for the past six months, it was with her mother-in-law, Daw Ma Oo.
Because in short, life is messy. San Aye had been helping Daw Ma Oo with her flower business; Daw Ma Oo went to the market each day and San Aye sold locally and made deliveries on Fridays. But as family dynamics shifted and life stories unfolded, we learned this wasn’t the best for everyone.
San Aye now has a little restaurant stand outside of her house. She sells a variety of pork and tofu items, and we can always swing by for a little snack and chatting with friends.
Daw Ma Oo now sells flowers each week. We load up flowers into Zuk and drive off to a number of houses around Mae Sot, allowing her to sell nearly double her regular sales in just a couple hours.
On the way to our first flower delivery, we stopped at the hospital. Because like so many other days, someone is sick and needs to see a doctor and get some medicine.
And then today, five girls sat outside of our door playing Memory and four toddlers ran in and out of the house. I gave one of the little guys a hug, because he just always wants one.
He was actually offered to us last week to adopt, by his grandmother who he lives with, because life is complicated, and families are complicated. For now, he’s not really adoptable, and it really isn’t a healthy solution. But we can encourage them, help them, give him hugs and tell him he’s special whenever we get the chance.
One of the more well-known quotes of Mother Teresa is, “Don’t look for big things, just do small things with great love…The smaller the thing, the greater must be our love.”
This is what I was thinking about as I drove this morning. I know delivering flowers is a small thing, as well as a ride to the hospital and $3 Christmas present.
How do I love well in these moments? It usually involves a smile. It usually involves a hug or a high five or a touch on the arm. It usually involves just seeing the person in front of me as a story: a family, a home, laughter and tears, with a past and a future.
You see, we are doing a lot of very little things.
We are working in a very small community in a big border town. We are working on just a few streets with some families. We are impacting these homes in very little ways.
They are still in poverty, they are still paperless, they still have big questions. There are still systemic problems that place them into widespread statistics.
Some days I’m sure this is where we are supposed to be. I can’t imagine anything different, really. I see change coming. I am hopeful that maybe, just maybe, we are planting seeds and watering them. I am hopeful that maybe, just maybe, God is making them grow.
Other times, I wonder if what I do truly means anything. Does it matter if we deliver flowers again? Am I helping by simply driving someone to the hospital? Does it matter that we celebrate Christmas and wrap a bajillion Christmas gifts and share the Christmas story, and then someone invites us to the temple the next day?
And as we look ahead to a very near trip back to the States, I wonder if I should keep flying back and forth. Should churches and individuals keep sacrificing and giving to us, month after month and year after year, to make this possible?
It is so many little things: a ride to the hospital, an English class, a piece of candy, a smile and greeting. Or perhaps answering the door for the umpteenth time for a little girl to give me a flower.
And then come back for a high five.
And then decide she would like a glass of water.
{This was my last thirty minutes.}
Are these little things worth it?
I’m not sure it’s mine to say. I think it is mine to do small things in great love, to plant the tiniest little mustard seeds and water them. I think it is mine to pray for big things, to pray without ceasing, to wait faithfully for when the Son of Man comes. I think it is mine to hope, hope, hope.
Sin & err
Fear & hurt
Tears, questions
Nothing left
But a kiss on the forehead
Hope for tomorrow
Peace for today
Love for the moment
Kelli, as I sat here reading this I was laughing……………..it sounds very much like what I do and Iâm not in a refugee camp; but on a block of senior citizens. Mrs. Rice will be 98 next week; Iâm trying to help her stay in her own home…..SO—-this past week; I have nursed her thru a fall on her concrete drive; Cleaned up an explosive black tarry stool from beside her bed with my 6â putty knife and all the stuff I collected from home and packed over there; cleaned the carpet where she stepped in the mess tracking it to the bathroom; then cleaned the dried up mess in the bathroom; Called a man to come disconnect the door bell which wouldnât quit ringing; got the phone back on the charger so her life line was back in service and her daughter could contact her; changed the bed; took her some lunch. Took mail in for 2 neighbors; then brought in garbage recycle bins for 4 of them for various reasons. What Iâm implying is———–you donât have to be in Thailand to do it; just ask Steven Helmick (or your parents); it is all around you. All you have to do is be aware of the needs around you where ever you are…. Just have a servants heart. Love you, Gma