Do Small Things With Great Love

Life Lessons

We can do no great things; only small things with great love - Mother Teresa 

The place has a welcoming feel, a scene of vast repose. The sky all heaven, and the earth all grass. Meeting the land is water in which are immersed dozens of stilt wooden structures, home of about 6,000 people and the scruffiest property around. We've just navigated our way toward the floating village of Siem Reap in Cambodia. 

Today, we're bringing freshly-baked Cambodian-French baguettes to the children.

The crowd is already buzzing. Barefoot, tanned children with stained and torn clothes sit in a huddle on a bare patch of earth, giggling shyly, their voices tinkling, waiting. I catch snippets of sampeah! - the word for hello as well as goodbye in Khymer. A few stand up, soon followed by all the rest of them, placing both palms together like a lotus flower in front of their chest which is their formal way of greeting. 

There is an expectant hush as we start handing out longish loaves of bread. Num pang, a child says. Bread. At first they speak in church whispers, but soon, it becomes a noisy chatter as of buttonquails on the trees overhead. Their varied reaction is a delight to behold. I'm touched by the soft sadness on a child's face as he looks up on me after I've given him a small bagful. A little brown face squints against the light, purses his lips, then breaks out into the widest grin as he receives a goody sack. Orgoon, thank you, is said many times with a grateful bow.

Several are already eating their loot with gusto. I laugh as I see someone take a large bite, then bite again before he'd swallowed any. His cheeks are bulging, and the bite sprays flecks onto the air. A few have started to run back home to share the bread with younger siblings waiting on the stairs. 

I walk closer to where a mom is watching the scene with pleasure. She is holding a baby as if she were in a painting, surrounded by light. The baby is making funny noises. Gurgles and hiccups. It makes me laugh and when I do, he yawns and stretches and makes more noise, and I laugh some more. Beside her is a much younger mom with a baby on her lap. It is a comforting feeling, a child in one's lap. The baby is so supremely unimpressed that when he first lays eyes on me, he yawns and falls fast asleep. 

It feels like spring. The breeze is chilly, but the sun is shining cheerfully on these children who feel invisible, unnecessary in the world, but who are now suddenly cherished. 

The day couldn’t have been better, if God were to plan it.