Autism Awareness Day

"So what am I supposed to do with that?", I hear someone ask. Give money? Wear blue? Find a puzzle ribbon (one of the symbols for autism) and pin it to my shirt? 

It does seem that there is a ribbon/wrist band/color for every cause. All for the goal to raise awareness. (And hopefully funding.) But all those causes can be overwhelming and being overwhelmed can lead to inaction. It seems like we need to do something "big" for it to count and if we cannot to a big thing, then we'll do nothing at all.

The truth is, big things are overrated. 

It is the little stuff. The daily little stuff. I had a friend once say, "the thing about life is that it is so daily." My life is pretty daily, cooking, cleaning, laundry, the endless kid hauling. There is always dust to wipe, crumbs on the floor and dishes to wash. Always. The daily stuff doesn't seems to matter until you don't do it. Then it matters. Little stuff is what life is made of.

And little stuff is what we can do. For every cause, there is someone suffering. For every ribbon, some family member has a loved one on their heart. It doesn't have to be overwhelming. We can practice kindness and compassion right where we are. Somebody nearby has a need, even if it is only for a kind smile or a friendly word. 

It might be the lonely neighbor who has lost her husband. Or the single mom who is always short of funds. It could be a family at church, still grieving a loss that everyone else has moved on from. It could be the a co-worker whose spouse was just diagnosed with cancer. Look around. We won't have to look far. There will always be someone who is "neighbor" to us--someone fallen and injured by the thieves of life, waiting for someone else to offer mercy and help. Someone waiting for the good samaritan, their good samaritan to come and offer help. Us.

And our help doesn't haven to be big. It can be small--a note, a plate of brownies, a $20, a meal, a phone call. Something small to let them know that someone sees, and cares. 

I remember the little stuff done for me. I remember a dorm roommate, who turned down my bed for me after a late night.  I remember the woman in the grocery store who came over and said a kind word about my parenting as I talked my daughter out of a fit. I remember a little bouquet of wildflowers someone left on my dresser after a particularly hard day at work. I remember the little things.