As I was thinking this summer about helpful advice I might want to share with you in this opening Vespers moment, I remembered hearing a story about some advice being shared that has stuck with me for many years. Years ago, there was a visitor who came to speak at my previous school whose name was Craig Kielburger. Craig at that time was in his early twenties, but when he was in middle school in Toronto, he read a news story about an abusive child labor situation in Pakistan. He was upset and organized his fellow middle school students to begin a letter writing campaign and ultimately convinced a family friend from Bangladesh to take him to Pakistan on a trip where he found a way to witness first hand some of the sweatshop working conditions and actually met with the Canadian Prime Minister to ask for change. By the time he was in his twenties, he and his brother Marc had founded a non-profit called Me to We and ultimately We Charities which advocated for social change around the world and raised millions of dollars to support projects on several continents. They were an amazing pair.
 
What stuck with me about Craig’s presentation, however, was when he explained an especially powerful moment for him when getting to meet Mother Theresa. For those of you who have not heard of Mother Theresa before, she was an incredible woman who grew up in Albania just before and after WWI, became a nun in her teens, traveled to India after WWII, and established the Missionaries of Charity order in Calcutta in the 1950’s. Her remarkable charitable efforts first in India and later around the world made her a global inspiration and ultimately earned her canonization as a Saint in the Catholic Church. She was a petite woman and physically unimposing, but she had a powerful presence that moved all who met her to action. Now Craig explained that he and Marc were teenagers when they were fortunate to meet Mother Theresa at an international conference. When they asked her for advice and guidance, she pulled them close, looked up at them, and said “Boys, we can’t all do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”
 
We can’t all do great things, but we can do small things with great love. As I was remembering this summer this wisdom about the power of small things, I flashed right back to the first day of fourth grade. (1972 – I’m really old!) I had grown up in Orange, Virginia at Woodberry Forest School where my father worked as an English teacher, but we moved that summer to Charlottesville so that my father could do some graduate work and help a friend start a school there. I had been in a very small school in Orange with only 11 students in my entire third grade. When my older brother and I showed up at our new school in Charlottesville the next fall, we marched right in and told our mother we would be fine. My brother headed off to seventh grade, and I walked down the third and fourth grade hall. I was overwhelmed. It seemed huge. And I panicked. I didn’t know where to go and started crying in the hallway. A teacher finally figured out where my classroom was and I sat there bawling in the corner desk. I couldn’t stop sniffling. I had my head down, but it seemed like all the kids were staring at me, laughing or rolling their eyes. It probably wasn’t the case, but that is the way it felt.
 
Just at that moment, another student, Shank Garland (I remember like it was yesterday), sat down next to me, introduced himself, and asked how I was doing. Now Shank was a little shy himself. He wasn’t one of the cool kids or the smartest students. He just realized I needed a friend. At recess he hung with me. At lunch he sat with me. We ended up going through school in Charlottesville together and Woodberry together, and I see him from time to time. We never were best friends or super close but always friendly. I am pretty sure that Shank had no idea what a powerful moment that was for me. He simply chose to be kind and I remember how he made me feel that day like it was yesterday. Some of you may know the wise saying from award winning writer, poet, and Civil Rights activist Maya Angelou. She said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Shank made me feel that things would be ok and got me through that first day. It was a small thing, but it had the power of great love.
 
What also hit me about Mother Theresa’s words was the notion of there being important things that we all can do, things that don’t necessarily depend upon any special skill or talent, things we all share in common. Doing small things with great love is a choice. It’s a choice we can all make. There are also other important choices I hope you will consider this year that we can all make, that don’t take any special skill or talent, but that can make this place the very best it can be:

• We can all be curious about each other and strive to understand when we all are having moments where we are struggling with fears and anxieties and need a little help. We all have these moments.
• We can all avoid saying things and doing things that are upsetting or hurtful to others or that put others down.
• We can all lean in to supporting each other and being there at everyone’s games and artistic performances and making this campus all about spirit.
• And, we can all leave our cell phones and ear buds in our backpacks when walking on campus or sitting in the dining room or Pendleton or Chapel because we want to spend time with people and get to know each other better and be respectful of those talking to us.