No Kindness Too Small

A dozen years ago, when I became a single parent, my children’s newspaper routes morphed into morning delivery with adult drivers. This was not the type of job I desired, but with six children to raise, teen down to the non-verbal little guy still in diapers, I needed anything family-friendly and home-based. The route couldn’t have been cushier: my own neighborhood in walking distance from the newspaper distribution center.

One day, a carrier was grumbling about the terrible hours and low-pay. During the course of the rant he said, "This is a job, not a vocation." His words hovered around me. I delivered with my children in tow. I wanted to be a good example. Here was an opportunity to serve hundreds of people a day during a tumultuous time when we could barely serve ourselves. Could we make it both a job and a ministry?

On the way to the route, seven days a week, we pray for our fellow carriers, the newsroom staff, the truck drivers, and our customers. We’ve offered porch delivery to the elderly who are too humble to ask for it. The kids know to greet any customer they see with a smile and a "Good morning, sir," or "Good morning, ma’am," for they are the visible representation of the newspaper that pays our bills. It’s unrealistic to assume we’ve pleased everybody, but we always try.

We hope it has made a difference for even one person. It has to us.