TINY THINGS

The murmur of a waterfall a mile away,

The rustle when a robin lights upon the spray,

The lapping of a lowland stream on dipping boughs,

The sound of grazing from a herd of gentle cows,

The echo from a wooded hill of a cuckoo's call,

The quiver through the meadow grass at evening fall;

Too subtle are theses harmonies for pen or rule,

Such music is not understood by any school,

But when the brain is overwrought, it hath a spell

Beyond all human skill and power to make it well.

The memory of a kindly word far long gone by,

The fragrance of a fading flower sent lovingly,

The gleam of a sudden smile or sudden tear,

The warmer pressure of the hand, the tone of cheer,

That hush that means: I cannot speak but I have heard

The note that bears only a verse from God's own word.

Such tiny things we hardly count as ministry,

The givers deeming they have shown scant sympathy,

But when the heart is overwrought, oh, who can tell

The power of such tiny things to make it well!

---Scranton Truth