There was once a woman whose only son died. In her grief, she
went to a holy man and said, “What prayers, what magical incantations
do you have to bring my son back to life?”
Instead of sending her away or reasoning with her, he said to her,
“Fetch me a mustard seed from a home that has never known sorrow.
We will use it to drive the sorrow out of your life.”
The women set off at once in search of the magical mustard seed.
She came first to a splendid mansion, knocked at the door and said, “I
am looking for a home that has never known sorrow. Is this such a
place? It is very important to me.”
They told her, “You’ve certainly come to the wrong place,” and
began to describe all the tragic things that had recently befallen them.
The women said to herself, “Who is better able to help these
unfortunate people than I, who have had misfortune of my own?” She
stayed to comfort them, and then went on in her search for a home that
had never known sorrow.
But wherever she turned, in hovels and in palaces, she found one
tale after another of sadness and misfortune. Ultimately, she became so
involved in ministering to other people’s grief that she forgot about her
quest for the magical mustard seed, never realizing that her small
gestures of care, and concern and compassion, had in fact, driven the
sorrow out of her life.
A grieving woman’s small gesture of outreach gave life and hope
to herself – gave her what she was looking for.
Well traveled, Larry Brown, was once the coach of the San
Antonio Spurs, the local professional basketball team. Coach Brown
recently spent an afternoon at a local men’s store, signing autographs.
He was scheduled to spend two hours, but ended up spending three.
Pencil-and-pad-toting kids besieged the place, asking him questions and
shaking his hand.
When he was finally able to slip out, he climbed into his car, only
to notice a touching sight. A late-arriving youngster pedaled up, jumped
off his bike, and ran to the window to see if the coach was still in the
store. When he saw he wasn’t, he turned slowly and sadly, walked over
to his bike, and began to ride off.
Coach Brown turned off the ignition, climbed out of the car, and
walked over to the boy. They chatted a few minutes, went next door to a
drugstore, sat down at a table, and had a soft drink.
No reporters were near. No cameras were on. As far as these two
knew, no one knew. I’m sure Larry Brown had other things to do that
afternoon. No doubt he had other appointments to keep. But it’s
doubtful that anything he might have done that afternoon was more
important than what he did.
In a world of big-bucked, high-glossed professional sports, it did
me good to hear of one coach who is still a coach at heart.
Larry Brown was the yeast that raised this young boy up, that
added flavor and zest to a little boy’s life.
Lord, we spend so much energy frantically searching
for that magical elixir, that magical cure to take away
our grief, our loneliness, the hurting parts of our life
that need fixing. Help us remember today, this week,
always, that one small gesture on our part, a smile, a
handshake, a hug, a phone call, a short visit, a listening
ear, a few encouraging words….is the best medicine to
bring about real healing for ourselves and for others.
Amen