Difference Makers for Little Details
I’ve always assumed the family was seated all together on the pew, in that Wednesday night church service in San Fernando Valley, California. When the minister said there was a local family in need, and asked if anyone could take “the baby” home (18- month-old me), I thought my (soon-to-be) mom had turned to her side and asked dad if he was okay with it, the moment before she raised her hand and voice to say, “I’ll take the baby.” To say I’ve treasured the powerful image of this spontaneous decision to become my parents doesn’t begin to describe the magnitude of my gratitude. It’s everything to me. But yesterday, my sister, Cheryl (who was twelve at the time and seated there with mom and brother, Danny, seven), told me that dad wasn’t seated on the pew at all, he was actually standing in the rear of the church, doing his deacon duties—serving—when the minister announced little Pammy needed a home. What Cheryl said next, somehow, made an even bigger difference and cranked up the magnitude of my gratitude. Heeding the call, Mom turned her head back and glanced at dad, tipped her chin up, and raised her eyebrows, and he simply nodded in agreement—they were joined in purpose, service, and compassion, via their wordless simpatico.
I’ve always known the colossal difference they’ve made in my life. Cheryl’s words—this new detail—made an even bigger one, in this little detail, me.