snowman service

I was walking across campus yesterday and saw this little guy, looking a little worse for wear because the weather was warming, but still there. Still bringing a smile to my face.

And I needed a smile. Candy passed away over the weekend. My longest friend. And she is gone. And I am grieving and I needed a smile.

Candy was such a great example of service. I asked her once how she could know exactly what a person needed. I can take cookies or soup or bread--but all my service feels generic. Candy's felt specific to the person and to the need at the moment. How did she do that? I think she just lived really close to the spirit, but she was embarrassed, said she didn't know, and changed the subject. I was thinking about this as I walked across campus. And there was this little snowman.

And I thought: someone built this snowman, probably just for fun. They probably had no idea that, even when it was worn and fading and actually not looking so good (one eye gone, dirt sticking to its body), even then it would make someone who needed a lift to smile.

And then I thought: maybe service can be like that, too. Maybe my cookies or soup or bread, as not-so-specific as they may be to the current need, can still lift someone who needs to know they are loved. And in that thought, I felt comfort and peace.

So, the little snowman, as small and fading as he was, taught a good lesson, one I needed. Thank you, whoever made him!