The Sparrow. My Story of Matthew 10:29-31

When I bought valentines for my kids to share on Vday this year, the thought flickered across my mind that I should pick up an extra box. So I did. And then I patted myself on the back for preemptively dealing with the inevitable fallout when the last child to choose is stuck with the last box and therefore hates it, not because anything is wrong with it, but just because he/she didn't get to CHOOSE it.

I didn't really think about what to do with the leftover box, assuming, I suppose, that I'd just pass it along to a neighbor, or bring the Vday treats inside the box to share at the office.

So I was surprised when, the moment that I actually thought about it, a clear and distinct feeling came that I should give it to one of my daughter's teachers, for someone in the class who wouldn't be prepared with valentines that day.

I didn't pay much attention, and when I did remember, I'd wonder if I should just hand it to the first teacher I saw. And every time I'd have the clear feeling that it needed to be THAT teacher, in that classroom, in that grade.

I finally remembered on Valentine's Day itself. I grabbed the box and ran into the classroom when I dropped my kids off. The teacher was surprised, and looked doubtful. "Are you sure you want to leave it with me," she asked. "I'm pretty sure that all of my kids are ready for Valentine's Day." I told her to share the treats with the class if they weren't needed.

Later that day I got an email from the teacher. "How did you know?" she wrote. "One of the boys didn't have any valentines to hand out, and he was so sad. I gave him the box you dropped off and it made his day. He was so excited to not only have valentines, but to have such AWESOME ones."

Here's the thing that keeps getting me: I didn't know. His teacher didn't know. The other kids didn't know. Quite possibly, the kid himself didn't even know, because kids are kind of clueless like that, and don't always think about things like asking parents to get valentines for them.

But Somebody did.

Somebody cared enough about one little boy in one little school in one little town, to nudge one distracted and tired mom to grab an extra box of valentines, and point her feet in the direction they needed to go, and then open one teacher's eyes to see where the need was, so it could be filled.

It's not even a very big deal. In the big, grand scheme of things, not having valentines to pass out in fifth grade hardly rates as a reason for divine intervention.

That's how God works, though. If it matters to us, it matters to Him. He moves heaven and earth, moves overworked teachers and moms in minivans, to see us happy.

YOU matter. YOU are the child of Heavenly Parents, and your happiness is their sole aim. You are loved, even down to the details of your daily life. There is nothing too small or too silly; too big or too scary, that it can't be wrapped up in their love.

I promise. You are that important.

And worth so much more than sparrows.