How we try to do big things; to make some great sacrifice; to do some noble, heroic deed! yet immediately complain that only small, mean things fall to our lot. “Oh that I could do something great!” we cry. Little things we have no patience with.
Let us think a moment, and ask ourselves—“What are big things composed of?" Were it not for the little blade of grass, our England would not be beautified with rich, soft, green meadows. Every man is a portion of the Divine Image, and little efforts are necessary to the Whole, and should not be despised.
Let us, then, perform gladly and lovingly our every little daily task, that nothing may be found lacking in us.