Today I'd like you to meet Carolyn, author of Just Another Ragamuffin. In today's Share Your Story, Carolyn writes about anonymous service and comfort brought by postcards.
Here's Carolyn.
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When tragedy or hardships strike our loved ones, we all want to help in whatever way we can.
When my precious Mama passed away in March of this year, I heard constant offers of assistance. “What can I do to help?” “Let us know how we can support you.” “Do you need anything?” Augh! The only thing I needed was my Mama back! That’s what was going through my mind. And the whole how-can-I-help thing was as tiresome as it was well-meaning.
There were actually about five things that I asked for from close friends, but for the most part, I just always answered with, “just pray for us.” I meant that. We desperately needed the prayers. I wish I had something more I could have given our friends and family to do so that they would feel like they were helping more. I’ve surely been in their shoes – wanting to help but not able to do anything tangible.
There was one person – whose identity I still do not know – who took it upon herself (I have it on pretty good authority that it is a “her”) to encourage me in the way she knew how. She started sending me postcards. There were actual pre-printed postcards and others were handmade from card stock with lovely patterns printed on it. Some even had a little glitter on them. They were addressed to me and sent locally, but they never had a return address or signature.
Each of these postcards had a handwritten Bible verse on it. There were verses from the Old Testament and from the New Testament. All were meant to comfort me and give me some direction at a time when I had lost one of the brightest stars in my universe. This went on for about a month. There were eighteen postcards in all. I still have every one of them.
This woman served anonymously, without thought for thanks from me. I’m sure it also worked for her in some way – maybe she is a single mom who doesn’t have much time to invest more than just a short message. Regardless of her circumstances, what she gave was a precious gift.
In the quiet of our house – after family and friends had gone back to their routines – I would take out these postcards and read through them again and again. There is not a price that could be put on the fact that somebody was thinking of me and reminding me of God’s promises.
Remember that just like the widow’s two mites, no gift is too small. Small, anonymous acts of service can be as meaningful as bringing food, sending flowers, sitting up with a friend, or sending handwritten postcards.
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Thank you so much for sharing with us, Carolyn.
Thank you so much for sharing with us, Carolyn.
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