As I was arriving at the office this morning, I noticed that my boss had put out a jar of Halloween candy. Next to the jar was a sign inviting us to guess how many pieces were inside.
I can’t resist a guessing game. Who can?
I walked over, glanced at the jar, wrote “197” on a piece of paper, and threw it into the container for guesses.
Then I went on with my day. Now and then, I saw colleagues stopping to make their guesses. I didn’t think too much about it. I had already guessed, and chances were my guess was wrong.
And it was wrong—but not by much. I guessed 197, and there were 196 pieces of candy in the jar. Luckily for me, my team didn’t follow “Price Is Right” rules, where if you go over, you lose. They declared me the winner. I am pleased to report that I am now the proud owner of an entire skull-shaped jar of candy.
I recognize that I demonstrated no talent or skill when I guessed. I didn’t even try very hard. But I was still excited.
When I came home, I couldn’t wait to tell my children about my victory. They were happy for me—and maybe also for them. I called my parents and listened to all their news, and then ceremoniously I told them about mine. And, because they are my parents, they made me feel that mine was much more interesting.
It’s just a jar of candy—though it’s a skull-shaped drink dispenser, which is so much fun. But it is not as if I’ve won the lottery.
Still, as my sons have been sorting through the candy to get the good candy (Hello, Twix!), I’ve been thinking how the little wins are often the big ones.
Sometimes it’s the parking space right when you need it or the grocery checkout that opens up just as you’re pulling up. Sometimes it’s the delayed school bus on the day you’re running behind. Sometimes it’s sunshine on a day you thought would be rainy or a dollar you find in your winter coat when you put it on the first cold day of the season. And sometimes it’s the fact that you unexpectedly won a jar full of 196 pieces of Halloween candy.
“Our God delights in stooping down to converse with us, and He rejoices when we make known to Him our most trivial everyday affairs,” said St. Alphonsus Liguori.
Even the little things matter to God because they matter to us. And I’m sure He is enjoying watching my sons dig through the pile of candy on my dining room table just as much as I am.
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