It’s The Little Things…

Once in awhile, when we slow down and look around, we realize that we miss so much of life in our rushing world. What we miss are the little things. These are the moments that bring focus and clarity to the normally confused world. It isn’t about gifts exactly, rather, its about all the minute details which make the big things come about.

Take a young girls wedding. She spends months and months planning the big day right down to the smallest detail. Hours can be spent just choosing the perfect font for the wedding invites. These days people are engaged for years rather than months and the planning consumes them. The day comes and goes and there is often a huge letdown for brides as they realize that the perfect day wasn’t really about her. It was about the guests having a good time. The pictures are there to help us recall what actually went down that day. Because it really is a blur. And it is the little things that made the whole thing go off without a hitch. I remember very little about my wedding. I have snippets of the planning in my mind. For the most part it was a lot of work at a time when I didn’t have time. I was still in school. I actually had a midterm exam two days after the wedding. It was a lot of work. The pictures were nice. But not really worth the money in my opinion.

Years ago we took our entire family on a bicycle trip. We rode from Banff to Jasper and camped on the way. There were a few mishaps. One person was intent on going faster than anyone and that caused some scary things. One child got sick the first day and halfway through the trip I had to drive her to the Jasper hospital late at night. My parents followed along with the motorhome and cooked for us along the way. They also had a vehicle for emergencies. And so it was that she saw the Doctor, got the meds for her strep throat, and we drove back for a short sleep. Only to get up the next day and head towards jasper on our bikes. For the most part though it was a good time. Going that slow, and being out in the air, we saw things that we never would have seen in the car. Some cool bubble ponds. Wild flowers that were scattered along the roadside and ditches. Campgrounds we would never stop at in our race to Jasper. Wildlife, roadside cafes and rest stops. People. Who we talked to that normally wouldn’t have approached us. It was a bonding time although not all of the family has good memories. There are always mishaps.

There are little acts that people do that mean the world. When I was young and struggling to conceive, my husband would shake down a special thermometer and put in my mouth first thing every morning. Temperature is an indictor of ovulation. However, movement can cause your temperature to fluctuate. So he did this for three years. Every morning. Before I got out of bed. In the morning he would get up first and make himself a cup of coffee. But he always brought one to me and put it on my night stand. He was a thick buffoon of a man sometimes but when it came to the little things… He was the master. When he had cancer, neighbours would bring by supper for me. A plate of whatever they were having. Warm and ready to eat. Just a little thing. My neighbours have leaf blowers that they crank up in the winter. After the snow flies you will see one blowing snow off my car and another doing my walkway. Takes two minutes and I am sure they love it. Men and their toys. But for me, it is a huge deal. For them it’s a little thing.

Some of the greatest memories I have from my life are little things. My Farmor (Fathers Mother) used to have a bottle of seven-up every day. She would put some in a glass for both of us when I stayed with her. But the best part was, the next day she let me return the bottle to the store where I got to buy a little candy for the two cent deposit. What a thrill. My Mom used to let me plant my own row of veggies in the garden. Dad would start the motorbike for me when I was too small to kick start the thing. He was never too busy. When I was 18 I was driving to Edmonton and the belt on the alternator broke. Cold blizzard, young girl too cool to wear warm clothes, I got out to fix it. A police officer stopped to see if I was okay and I asked him to shine his headlights into the back. You see I was almost finished and I had done it in the dark. No flashlight. The tricky part was tightening the new belt up and light made it a heck of a lot easier. He was a joy to see on that snowy winter night. But the thing is when I first got the car, Dad showed me how to change the tires. The belts. All sorts of maintenance. It was a little thing. But it meant a lot. Because it gave me independence as well as some safety.

I have a friend who calls me when she needs a favour. I drop everything for her and help out. This is a gal who spends her life doing for others and once in awhile she needs help. Usually she needs a ride or her Mom needs something. It’s nothing for me but they are always so grateful. I don’t think they understand that what they bring to the world is so much greater than a little ride. Yesterday was again one of those days where I was asked for a favour and my friends thanks was incredible. I started to look back on my life. Were there times in my life that I did a small thing for someone and they think kindly towards me? Did I unknowingly help another with something so small that it made no difference to me. And yet, it was a huge thing for them. Do they remember me fondly? Honestly, I can’t think of anything. Perhaps, it is because the little things don’t seem to have life changing consequences. At least in our minds. But maybe they do alter someone in a way that we can never really understand.

I was loading my truck in a parking lot when a man rolled his window down and asked if I needed help. I was almost finished and so I thanked him and declined the offer. He smiled and said goodbye and drove away. He didn’t help but he has never left my thoughts. Why was I so grateful to him? Because he asked. He had his wife and three kids in his car and was willing to pull over and inconvenience himself and his family. To help me. He asked. He offered to help. It was a little thing but I can still see his face in my mind so many years later. He has forgotten all about me. It was nothing to him. Another time a group of young men in their late teens were walking by as I was again loading up my truck. (I spend a lot of time at home depot). Not only did they stop to help, they asked what I was building, admired my choice of tiles and joked and laughed about how talented I must be to build a bathroom all on my own. The youngest lad who first approached me to offer help, fist bumped me and said “respect” as they turned to leave. 5 minutes in their lives but four years later I am still thinking about them. They on the other hand forgot about me before the day was out.

It all boils down to kindness. We are all very willing to help those we love. Children, other family, close friends. It becomes a little less easy for strangers. And not just the big things. If my kids need something I don’t hesitate. Even if it costs a lot of money. But would I do it for a stranger? Not likely. But what about time? How much time are we willing to sacrifice for others? In this ever changing world, time is what people claim to have the least of. Everyone is stressed because of the lack of time. We are so busy. So if someone needs a push out of the snow or a car boost on a cold winters morning, do we stop or do we drive by? Are we going to be late for work? Does that affect our decision? Is it a neighbour or a stranger on the street. Does that change how we react to the situation? Should it? How do we treat those we help? Are we kinder to those who look and dress a little more respectable? What about someone begging for money on the street corner? Do we give? And if we do, is it with a smile and a kind word? Or do we avoid eye contact. Do we feel superior? Or perhaps wonder why we have been blessed while others have not. One of my most shameful moments was when I was sitting in my car crying. My husband was dying and I was having a little pity party in the safeway parking lot. A young girl approached my window to ask for spare change. I gave her $20 and as she gushed and thanked me I was so rude to her. I just wanted her to take the money and leave me in peace. Let me cry. I didn’t want to hear about her problems or listen to her thanks. How wonderful I was. And I was so rude. I told her my husband had cancer and I just needed to be left to cry in peace. She was quiet, reached in to squeeze my arm and said “I’m so sorry this is happening to you”. She patted my shoulder for a moment as I sobbed and then walked away. She needed some money and I needed compassion. We both got what we needed that day but she did it with grace. 

Its almost Christmas and at this time of year there is the rush to make the season special for our loved ones but also for those who are in need. There is always a bit of magic in the air and we look back on life and remember our childhood Christmases. We want to recreate it for our kids. Our Grandkids. And also for ourselves. But really. What is it that gives us the cozy feeling. The warm fuzzies as we reflect? Is it the gifts? Do we even remember the gifts from 40 or 50 years ago? I can’t remember last year. I remember the first time I got the almond in the pudding so I got a prize. It is a Danish thing. It was those little sugar coated jelly candies. They were shaped like Christmas trees and were mint flavoured. And they were all mine. All mine! I remember my Mom decorating the advent wreath with spruce branches and oranges and candles. I remember having my own bottle of ginger ale at Christmas dinner. Mainly, I remember dancing around the tree and singing Christmas carols, with only the lights of the tree lighting our way. Reading the Christmas story from the bible. My Dads last Christmas at my nieces house. The chaos of so many people and what church we were going to for the candle light service. The Catholic and Lutheran churches were both full but the United Church had room. It was the most beautiful evening. A fitting farewell to an era.

What I have learned throughout my many years on this earth is to embrace the little things. For they mean the most. A moment here and there to help someone. A kind word when we see someone who needs it. Or even an ear as we ask a stranger how they are. And then listen to the answer. We can give money and not worry because we can always get more money. But to give our time. That’s something altogether different. Because we only have so much time. We don’t know when the supply will end. When our time is up. Time. A truly big part of the little things. I know why my girlfriend is so grateful when I help her. Because she has so little time. She see’s my gift of time as a huge sacrifice. Me? I’ve got lots of time. At least on a day to day basis. So I don’t see her as a burden. Its easy. Pick her up and drop her off. But as we drive, we visit. We chat about life and people we know. We enjoy each others company. After I am with her and we go our separate ways, I think about her family. Her Mom and her sister. How much they care about me. How they ask about my family. Their joy at my happiness. Their sorrow at my losses. Their complete acceptance of me and who I am. To them it is a little thing. To me, it means the world.