Untitled article by M. J. COTTRELL

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Third-day, August 20, 1867

LITTLE THINGS.

By M. J. COTTRELL

“Little deeds of kindness, little words of love, Make our earth an Eden, like the Heaven above.”

It was a smile, simply a smile on the face of a friend, that made my heart beat lighter and forget its load of care.

It was a little flower, a pale forget-me-not, at another time a tiny sweet rose-bud, that cousin gave me; little things they were, but they formed new links in the chain of love between us, for the simple reason that she knew I loved such things, and because she knew I loved them, she had saved them for me.

I dropped my spool of thread, and a perfect stranger, who was sitting near as busily engaged as myself, rose from her seat, picked it up and returned it to me. If every one were as kind there would be few cross words.

I was sick, and many were the little deeds of love kind friends showered upon me. Sister Etta brought me books and pictures; sister Delia hung my room with green bushes; darling Ray brought me a whole tumbler-full of bright dandelions, and being an offering of love from little hands I prized them accordingly. Brother came to my room often and asked, “How is sister,” with love in his voice. Father smoothed my tumbled hair and told me to be patient and trust in God. Mother never left me for the night without imprinting a kiss on my forehead. And these were only the little things, still they bound my heart with stronger cords of love to those dear ones.

I was almost discouraged in regard to an effort I had been making, and was on the point of giving up. A kind friend gave me words of encouragement, and oh! how the waves of gratitude surged around my heart. Words were inadequate to express my thanks for that encouragement.

Little things, all, and I might go on enumerating such, I know not how long, for I see them all along through the by-gone years. But you, my reader, doubtless have the same experience. These little things I have thought are like the tiny ripples on the surface of the broad ocean. The little efforts we make may seem to us overwhelmed and cast out of sight by the more successful efforts of others, and we may be tempted to cease our efforts. But we should not. If every little ripple were taken from the ocean, because it is so small and so easily lost from view, where would be the beauty we so much admire, and which is made by little sparkling ripples, in themselves almost nothing, but together with others they make this beauty. And thus it is with our little efforts for good; standing alone they may seem as nothing, but grouped with others they help to make earth an Eden. If we stop striving because we are less successful than others, the words “Well done” will never be spoken to us.

Rochester, N. Y.

M. J. COTTRELL.