Counting good

Lutheran, The, Jul 2001 by Dixon, Ann

Every small thing we do adds up

Our journeys as parents often take us to unexpected places. Mine led me to a spot beside a busy highway last July 4th weekend, waving like a fool at passing traffic with a crew of teenage girls.

We were trying to raise money for my daughters' basketball teams by attracting motorists to our sponsor's fireworks stand. It sounded simple-but the reality was grueling. By the third hour of a four-hour shift, I felt woozy from fatigue, afternoon heat and utter boredom.

To get through that last hour I played a counting game. Each passing car earned two points if an occupant waved, five points if one honked, 10 if it stopped to buy fireworks. For no response, I deducted one meager point.

The rapid adding and subtracting passed the time. But I was surprised to find how slowly the positive points accumulated. Most people seemed too preoccupied, apathetic or "cool" to wave. Occasionally I'd surge ahead by five or 10, only to lose point after point to attrition. Often the score remained stuck in negative numbers.

To make up for the majority who did nothing, I needed either a steady supply of people who exerted the small energy of waving or a few people willing to make the extra effort of honking or stopping for fireworks.

The game began to take on larger implications. I found myself rejoicing with each gain, large or small. Like the poor widow's few coins, all offerings truly were important.

I discovered that I couldn't judge people's intentions by their age, gender, looks or vehicle. Each passer-by was literally on an individual journey, with a motivation, destination and potential unknown to me.

So I quit focusing on results. I looked at the one thing I could control-my attitude and efforts. I tried to do the job at hand, trusting that my "sowing" would lead to "reaping," although perhaps not on my short shift.

After an hour I'd accumulated a disappointing 38 points. But the lesson of keeping faith held true. The next day, at the same spot and time, with a comparable amount of traffic, the score more than tripled to 134!

After playing my game, I can testify to the ease with which actions add up. Even little one-pointers. And I wonder: If more of us were consistently responsive to others in the small stuff, would there be less need for the major sacrifices of a few?

Although I admit to counting not just cars but my remaining years of fireworks duty, I appreciate finding a "God moment" in that improbable situation. In the daily journey of life, I want to remember to sense God's presence in all things-maybe even in something as small as the gesture of a friendly wave. Because it all adds up-or subtracts.

Dixon lives in Willow, Alaska, and is a member of Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Wasilla Her children's book Blueberry Shoe (Alaska Northwest Books) won the 2000 National Outdoor Book Award