adding some twinkle.

At Bible Study a couple of weeks back, we were talking about gifts, and attitudes, and service with a glad heart. One mum mentioned a conversation with her boy (who is one of the wisest little chaps I know), along similar lines, of people who willingly and cheerfully serve, and show love by acts of service. Not for kudos or accolades or recognition of their efforts, but simply for the love of helping others, and making some else’s day a little bit brighter. “Mum, I’ve noticed something”, the story went, “some people, they’ve got TWINKLE”. And we decided that was the perfect term for the kind of people we’d been talking about. I felt challenged, by one word from an eleven-year-old boy. I want to live a life full of twinkle. I want to sparkle and shine and be more loving to those around me. (Just don’t do a spot check 15 minutes before the school run, k?). “That’s awesome,” I said, “I love that idea. I want to make T’s twinkle list.” And so I vowed to live “twinkly”. And then she stopped me. “You rated a mention”. Me? Huh? I’m not twinkly. I’m selfish and prone to a bout of the grumps. Or three. I can be slack at keeping in touch with friends. I try and fail in a hundred different ways to life a life worthy of the path I’ve been called to. How could I be considered twinkly? “The bags”.

I haven’t blogged them yet. and by the time this conversation occured, I’d kind of forgotten about them. Mr Wise’s littlest sister has been very unwell, and housebound. Which also means a housebound mama. So when I prepared to drop off some movies I’d promised a loan of, I was hit with the memory of being not much older than her, and swapping little goody bags with a friend. Nothing fancy. A piece of gum. Some stickers. A little party favour or two. Just little knick knack things in a handsewn bag, just to say “I like you”. But I still remember the kick I got being on the receiving end of a goodie bag, and the fun of exploring the contents. Surely small girls haven’t changed that much in, cough, er, um, a long time… And so with the two smallest people in tow, I did a mercy dash to the shops, loaded up on “bits” and with the help of a lonesome fat quarter, and some cute ribbon, I whizzed up a pair of little goodie bags. A small one with textas, stickers, art diary, beads, and lollipop for Miss Sick. And in the larger, a couple of magazines, some choccies, and a box of tea bags for a mama likely climbing the walls. Nothing too exciting. Just a  few bits and bobs, to say “I’m thinking of you”, and like the original bags, “I like you”. To me it wasn’t that big of a deal. 10 minutes at the machine, a few dollars at the shops, and it might help reduce cabin fever. But it was enough to stick in his mind. A bit of twinkle.

Maybe, just maybe, I might be able to get a handle on this twinkling gig.