When I was in my early elementary school years, our family used to take a long summer vacation each year to a peaceful little town called Ashland, located in the state of Oregon. The reason for this vacation was so that my Dad could work on the horse ranch that he and my Aunt Sharon jointly owned. Apache Stables, as it was called, was a beautiful piece of property with lush meadows, sparkling streams, stately old trees, and of course horses – which believe it or not, did not thrill me.

You see, I was a city girl through and through, and I was scared of horses. Frankly my idea of a perfect summer day involved a stroll through the air-conditioned mall, or playing in our neighbor’s swimming pool. And although I enjoyed playing outside from time to time, I was not one of those kids who constantly wanted to be outdoors running through the hills, pretending to be a horse. Now my big sister Linda was a regular outdoor enthusiast! She spent her whole childhood outside, playing horse with all the neighborhood kids, and getting dirty with the best of them. So you can imagine that for her, getting to ride daily through acres of pristine Oregon land on a real live horse was like a dream come true! But to a little girl terrified of horses, a horse ranch just isn’t that much fun.

So while the rest of the kids enjoyed the glory of the great outdoors and horses, horses, horses, I chose instead to stay in the ranch house, glued to my mother (who, I might add, was my very best friend in the whole world).

Things continued along that way, until… One day, out of the blue, a package arrived in the mail for ME! I had only received mail a few times in my young life, and I could hardly contain my excitement that something had come in the mail for me. All the other kids gathered around me as I opened it – and this in itself was a huge treat, because as the youngest of all the children on the ranch, my friendship was not usually sought after (which is a nice way of saying that they called me Pula, and teased me mercilessly).

So with the whole group of kids surrounding me, I opened my package. Inside of the box was a note from my Grandfather saying that he was thinking of me and decided to send me some treats. And there underneath the note, were six different kinds of candy. I can still see them now, wrapped up in clear plastic bags, just lying in that box in all their sugary beauty. I was ecstatic! I was thrilled! I was finally popular with the ranch house kids! And you know most of all, I felt so loved. To think that my Grandpa took the time to pick out all those candies just for me, package them up, and then mail them, made me feel so special. And it came at a time when I really needed to feel special.

I don’t think my Grandfather ever knew the thrill he gave to an awkward “indoor” little girl that summer back in the late 1960’s. His act of kindness challenges me to take the time to be a blessing in the life of someone else. And even more then this, his act of kindness makes me strive to be discerning of the hidden needs of those closest to me, so that I can be there for them. So that I can meet their needs – showing love in little (but very important) ways.

Paula Friedrichsen is a Christian Speaker and Freelance Writer living in Mammoth Lakes, California. To find out more about her ministry log onto her website at www.pfministries.comPAULAFRIEDRICHSEN@peoplepc.com