Five little kids waved to me at church. I try to catch their eye when they are looking over the sea of knees, or shoulders, not particularly noticing what the minister is saying. Because I have had the good fortune to sing in the preschool for the past fifteen years, a bunch of them know my face. For the record, I can multitask. Listen to the talk and smile at
children.
I may be exaggerating, but I think it lightens their experience of sitting as opposed to running, and silence rather than talking. Which is remarkable, considering how easy it is to wave. Or smile. There is a lot of bang for my buck.
There have been other instances when I got amazing returns for my effort. Sending Christmas cards to people whose mailboxes are often empty is one that has come back to warm me. Visiting
friends who are housebound can cost me a few minutes, and expand to give them hours of reassurance.
Kindness on the road is another platform of sweet results. Letting a car go in front of me, when it will delay my trip by a few breaths, seems to engender cordiality. Who knows if that gesture could calm a tense driver down just enough to avoid a reckless choice.
Benjamin has his hopes up for a wave or two as well. He scans the
crowd for people he knows, and if his eye lands on a friendly person, he will be sure to tell the good news to his siblings in a chat. That is what church is all about, really. Good news.