Mary Morrell, Things My Father Taught Me
Top photo caption: Unsplash image
My oldest grandchild recently celebrated his 16th birthday. He’s learning to drive. Life will never be the same.
His birthday celebration, though, was also a time to recall many memorable moments from his younger years. One, in particular, stands out because it has served as a reminder that building something meaningful is possible if we are willing to take one small step at a time.
When he was a determined 10-year-old, he was digging what he envisioned as a very large hole in the backyard.
The subject came up one day as we sat at the kitchen table trying to unravel the mystery of fractions. Noticing the dark clouds gathering outside, he said, “I hope the storm doesn’t fill up my hole.”
I asked why he was so concerned about a hole in the ground. He seemed genuinely surprised at the question. “You know it took me three years to dig!” he said emphatically, explaining that he was working toward creating a bunker.
I mean, what 10-year-old wouldn’t love to have his own bunker? And he was willing to work for it, with the help of a younger brother, some neighborhood kids, and his Pop, to help shore up the sides.
I admired his enthusiasm for the project and his determination to finish it. When he was done talking, I smiled at him, and he smiled back – completely unaware that he had just given me another child-inspired parable that I would share with the world and use to embarrass him at every family gathering.
After all, I have a responsibility to the other nine grandchildren who might benefit from the lesson.
Whether it’s learning fractions, mastering a talent, developing a skill or overcoming a fear, the idea that something is possible – one small step at a time – can go a long way toward dispelling the discouragement children often feel when they struggle.
And let’s be honest. Discouragement is an adult issue, too.
Not only do we feel the pressure to be the best we can be at whatever we are doing, we often feel compelled to make a positive difference. Yet year after year, it becomes easier to feel overwhelmed by the needs of the world, our communities, and our families.
Sometimes there are so many needs we are not sure how to move forward.
But every journey begins with a first step.
I have found encouragement in the life and words of Servant of God Dorothy Day, the social activist, writer and Catholic convert whose Catholic Worker Movement and “houses of hospitality” served the poor and hungry in communities across the country.
Dorothy, whose cause for canonization continues to move forward, once wrote: “One of the greatest evils of the day is the sense of futility. Young people say, ‘What can one person do? What is the sense of our small effort?’ They cannot see that we can only lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time; we can be responsible only for the one action of the present moment. But we can beg for an increase of love in our hearts that will vitalize and transform these actions and know that God will take them and multiply them, as Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes.” (Catholic Worker, September 1957)
There is something profoundly hopeful in that image: one brick, one step, one action in the present moment.
A child doesn’t have to master fractions in one afternoon or dig a bunker in one day, and we don’t have to solve every problem that presents itself all at once.
We can begin with what is in front of us. A shovelful of dirt. A brick. A small gift of time. A kind word. A prayer. An act of personal presence. When we understand the power of a single step, both children and adults can find the courage and hope to keep moving forward to our goal.
It seems that is the lesson my grandson was teaching me all those years ago, one shovelful at a time.
Mary Morrell is editor-in-chief of The Catholic Spirit, the Metuchen Diocesan newspaper.