One Teaspoon at a Time

Years ago I watched a construction crew dig the foundation of a house. Sitting on my front porch while my children played, I saw the big digger drive up over the curb into the empty lot across the street. The man in the yellow hard hat climbed out of the digger and consulted with other men in hard hats who’d arrived in trucks. After walking around the lot and talking together for a few minutes, the first man climbed back into the digger. The big engine roared to life, and the driver pulled a lever. The huge bucket on his digger reached down and bit its teeth into the earth. As the man pulled more levers, the earth-filled bucket swiveled and dumped its contents into a dump truck. Bite after giant bite of earth filled the waiting dump trucks. The filled dump trucks drove away full and returned empty, ready for more dirt. Within a couple of hours a large rectangular hole, the foundation for a new home, appeared in the empty lot.

 If that foundation had been dug with a teaspoon…it would have taken years, rather than hours to dig it. If dozens of people all wielded their teaspoons, digging the soil and dumping it into the truck, it would still have taken far more than two hours to dig that foundation. As crazy as it sounds, though, a foundation could be dug that way.

I have to admit that my mind sometimes works in strange ways. Last week, when I helped deliver meals to the homeless, I thought about how difficult it would be to survive outdoors in the merciless 100 degree, humid weather. But my mind also skipped ahead a few months, and I wondered, How difficult would it be to survive in the streets during the winter? Can you imagine shivering in an icy wind all day and all night?

I want to do something to help, but there are so many people. We fed 70 and know there are more homeless in our community than that. I want to crochet an afghan, make a fleece blanket, and purchase some good, used winter clothes. But how could I offer an afghan, a blanket, and a coat to a few people while others, shivering nearby, watch?

That’s when I thought about digging a foundation with a teaspoon. I’m only one person, and have neither time nor resources to keep the homeless warm or to get them off the streets. But I have a teaspoon: I can crochet one afghan, I can make one fleece blanket, and I can buy one used coat. This will make a tiny dent in the soil of discomfort for the homeless. But what if many others, all wielding their own teaspoons, joined me in this endeavor? Together, with our tiny teaspoons, we can accomplish much.

I’ve asked others who knit or crochet to make some 8 inch squares. If enough people knit or crochet squares, we can sew them together and create many warm afghans! With our teaspoons, with our small gestures, we can dig a hole big enough to make a difference. Are you ready to dig with your teaspoon?

Proverbs 19:17 “He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will reward him for what he has done.”

The Least of These

Even at 10 am this late June morning, the air is hot and heavy with moisture. Today’s expected high is 106 degrees. Fortunately, I sit in the park, surrounded by huge, leafy green canopies. The cottonwoods, oak, and sycamores provide some protection and relief from the sun’s rays.

All around me I hear Spring’s mating calls: the cardinals sing, hoping to attract a mate. Cicadas' harsh calls sound from my left, then the answering calls echo to my right. I sit on a bench under the shade of a wooden gazebo, soaking in the calm atmosphere.

My mind drifts. Instead of enjoying the beauty and quiet of Lemon Park in Pratt, Kansas, my mind drifts back a few days. I’m in downtown Wichita, on a Sunday evening in 100 degree heat. Here, too, I’m seeking shade, but for a different reason.

With six gentlemen friends, I seek shade not for myself, but for others. We’re on a quest, seeking the homeless. Surely, on this hot day, they seek relief from the oppressive heat in a shaded spot or grassy, tree-lined park.

My friends and I aren’t disappointed. We find the homeless trying to keep cool in sheltered spots: under the Kellogg overpass, in the shade of a gazebo in Old Town, and in the shadows of the downtown library. We offer our small gifts—a sandwich, a bag of chips, a cookie, a pack of gum, some toiletries, and a bottle of water. They seem such a small gifts. We chat for a few moments with each group. Invariably we are thanked, often with a sincere, “God bless you.”

Then we climb back into our air-conditioned vehicles and search for others who are hot, thirsty, and displaced. The irony of our finding some respite from the heat in an air-conditioned vehicle does not escape me. The 70 or so people appreciate the gifts, but our gesture seems so small, like using a teaspoon to dig the foundation of a house. But we will continue to dig that foundation, providing what we can. One sandwich and one water bottle at a time, we’ll provide small gifts for our brothers. One small gift is better than nothing.

Mark 12:29-31 “The most important [commandment] …is this… ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

Matthew 25:40b “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did your for me.”