Lainey S. Cronk

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We forget about them sometimes, they're so small — so easily slid inside a coat pocket, so quickly passing. Small blessings.

In a beautiful review of "My Grandfather's Blessings" Melanee Grondahl* talks about watching for "small blessings" in an airport. "As I started to look beyond the chaos," she writes, "I noticed people blessing other people on a regular basis. The man who uprighted a woman's suitcase when it fell over on her way to her seat, the friendly woman at the ticket counter who helped lift my heavy bag onto the scale, the man in the security line who let two older women go in front of him."

So one day when I was working at the long-table-by-the-window in a local coffee shop, I started watching for those small blessings. In half an hour, I noticed a couple. A woman was waiting by the counter for her peppermint tea, which had been overlooked in the line of orders. When the barista set out a mug (that wasn't the tea) and mumbled something I couldn't hear across the room, the waiting lady nodded and smiled to my questioning gaze, letting me know it was probably my decaf mocha. Outside the shop, a couple waved gratefully when I stopped to let them cross.

They were insignificant… but not. So small I'd usually not even notice them, these moments are glints of blessing, given and received.

In our hectic, individualized, globalized community where it may seem that the self can be easily lost in commercialism, materialism, technology, and schedules, what will save us is the little things.

Being awake enough to interact with people as people, not as customer service machines. Asking the clerk how she is. Smiling at the next person in line. Letting ourselves be real. Even in his day, Jesus knew the little things counted. Breathe. Give. Love. It's a lifestyle.

* Melanee is a PUC alum who writes and designs online curriculum for college textbooks. Her review of "My Grandfather's Blessings" was posted on the website of Spectrum, the magazine of the Adventist Forum.