The Saturday Journal: And Little is Much When Given in Love

tathelmillerwriter
Sep 6
4 min read

She's small and frail--in her eighties--a widow-- her smile shines bright. We sit close on the front pew--during an altar of prayer. She holds my hand. I hold hers. And then I hear her whisper, 'Lord, thank you for all you do for me.'

There's this older couple--his first name begins with a J and so does hers. And if I could share their names--you would think they were straight out of a 1960's beach movie. I've met him. His wife lives in an assisted-care facility. She doesn't remember who he is on somedays. A stranger in her eyes. But he just keeps on going--fighting traffic on a major interstate for a half hour or more--one way--three and four days a week, he drives.

He says, 'She took care of me when I was not well--now it's my turn to take care of her. '

And there's this young woman who lives right down the street to Mr. and Mrs. J--a neighbor and she takes Mr. J dinner on some nights. He loves his desserts--but always manages to save a little--share his sweets on his next trip to see his bride, Mrs. J.

The color gray was weaved in and out of her dark black hair--she wore wire-rim classes--her face reflected that of the shade of tired and beautiful. She was neatly dressed as if she was going to church or town. She asked if she could get another plate to go. 'It will help me so much,' she said. 'My son is disabled and I take care of him.'

And I'm not sure how it even came into the conversation, but she shared, 'I'm 94 years old'.

She walked into the bank, her and another family member. My heart broke as I saw them walk through the front entrance. This lady--her husband had been a long-time bank customer of mine and he was tragically killed the day before.

And we hugged. She cried and I cried. She sat down in my office and with trembling hands reached in her purse and pulled out her husband's wallet--one I had seen many times. And she said, 'I have some checks for you--

For me?

'Yes' and she handed me two checks that I had signed on behalf of the bank.

'These are not the bank's checks--they belong to you--I just signed them for the bank.'

She wept once again and said, 'This will help us in the coming days.'

You know, I've read the story about the widow and her two mites--I've taught the story--I've wrote about it many times here in this space. A beautiful story of a woman in poverty--giving all she had--giving two mites into the treasury. And Jesus watching her as she gave her humble and small gift. To Him--it was far from small--far from insignificant.

Looking back at this story of the widow and her two mites, I believe I've been focusing a little too much on the widow and not enough on the significance of her gift. And I sit here in chills as I write this--ponder on it--how she trusted God to open her clenched fist--let go and hear the clang of the coins as they fell into the offering bowl. How something so small--in God's Kingdom, can be so big.

There's many needs and often we have this belief--if we only have a little to give--it won't be enough--won't matter. Why give?

This is simply not true.

So I challenge us--can we be as the widow--as her two mites? Can we be used to give small gifts to show love to others?

I believe so.

And I'm not exactly sure how or what A Widow's Mite will look like--where it's going, if anywhere--long-term or if only for a short while--but for now--let's start with a little--and little is much when given in love.

Inside these little bags are two mites (replicates of the original coin) and I have twenty to give away--they can be used as a reminder--little is much when given in love.

If you would like one of these bags, please email me at tathelmillerwriter@gmail.com with your name (first and last) and your mailing address.

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me.

Matthew 25:40 (KJV)