Even little things.
I was casually wondering aloud to my mom the other day what I was going to do about a Christmas tree this year. Last year we had a beautiful real tree chopped down from a field near our third roommate’s family home (with permission!). But E. moved out this summer, so the same adventure seemed unlikely this year and a sentimental part of me doesn’t want to buy an artificial tree yet on my own.
I soon forgot about my Christmas tree musing (it’s only October, after all—though I’m not sure all the stores understand this fact)…until my dad called later that afternoon.
He and my mom recently bought an old house near them to fix up and rent out. The barn is ancient and was full of all sorts of
“Guess what we found in the barn today?” I could hear my dad's grin through the phone line.
A Christmas tree.
Tidily bundled in its box, reader for a new owner. (Yep, that would be me!)
It’s such a small coincidence. And I could simply look at it that way. Yet something inside me says it’s more.
A smile from God. An open Hand. A loving Heart.
I wonder how many of these I miss.
Lord, please open my eyes to see the smallest of gifts You send each day.