A Simple Wildflower
I have been involved with a group called Mission of Hope for several years. It is a mission to Nicaragua, born in Seton Catholic High School in Plattsburgh, NY. After a hurricane hit Nicaragua (Nica), the mudslides were terrible. In this small school in Plattsburgh, there was a family from Nica. The first mission trip was organized in response to that one family’s need. That trip birthed a non-profit with a life of its own. Political changes in Nicaragua make it harder to serve. Mission of Hope continues in Nicaragua and reaches out to our country when natural disasters occur. They recently sent more than $10,000 in donations from their members to assist the people of our community affected by the hurricanes. My learnings from Mission of Hope are immense.
Several times in Nicaragua, I was tasked with bringing a bag of rice and a bag of beans to the homeless families living in the woods. It was maybe enough to feed a family of 5 for a week if they had light appetites. We would travel along the dirt road, and wherever there was a worn footpath into the woods, we would walk in and bring our simple treasures to these families. It never ceased to amaze me that we would hear the people calling for other families before we were even back on the road. They were not calling them to come to us to get rice and beans for themselves; they were calling them to come and share in the bounty they had received.
One day, as I left one of the families, I heard someone calling out. When I turned around, I saw a little girl of about 3, stark naked and dirty from head to toe, come running down the path after me. With enormous brown eyes and a smile that overshadowed the filth, she handed me a wildflower, hugged my leg, and whispered, “Gracias, Santa Señora.” Thank you, holy lady. I didn’t feel much like a holy lady. I had given her family perhaps a couple of days’ food. She gave me all she had.
Giving like the poor widow in today’s Gospel or as a dirty naked child in Nicaragua is not about how much. Giving is more about the inner freedom to share with others. Giving is an attitude of the heart. It is trusting that open hands will always trump closed fists. It is absolute confidence that when I give, whatever I give, I do so without expectation or strings attached. It is not to look good or to pat myself on the back. I don’t give to get points in heaven with God. I give because I can. I give because God gives. I give because I am called to be the echo of God in how I live my life.
The Pharisees in the Gospel gave with their hearts closed. They shared with their eyes looking the wrong way. They gave to others only looking at themselves. The Pharisees gave to look good and to follow the letter of the law. Their hearts were not in the giving. Their hearts were turned inward, and they were no doubt turning to stone.
This Gospel is a call for us to live with open hands and open hearts. It is from the heart that faithful giving comes. When I live with open hands, I can caress the face of another. I can reach out and help another up when they fall. I can reach out for help when I am afraid, in pain, or sadness overwhelms me with open hands. I reach out in absolute trust, knowing that someone else with open hands will be reaching back. Only with open hands and hearts can we become one people, one community, the echo of God’s love on earth.
The widow’s mite is a mighty witness to us and what God calls us to. She gave all that she had. Her attitude of heart was echoed in a wildflower in the hands of a dirty, naked 3-year-old. It is reflected in us when we live with open hands and hearts.
When we embrace the widow within ourselves, we can change our world from one of the Pharisees to the Kingdom of God.
In God’s Unending Love,
Gwen
