In late February, we made a trip to the grocery store.  As is often the case, when the boys accompany me to the store, we plugged a few quarters into the “Claw Machine.”  We identified which stuffed animal appeared to be most “vulnerable” and one after the other, we took a try.  Again and again, the claw would descend perfectly onto the stuffed animal, pinch in what appeared to be a total embrace, and then mysteriously let go as the claw returned to the sky.  Empty claw.  No toy.  Again and again.

Then it was 6-year-old Ben’s turn and he brazenly decided to target a stuffed snowman on the other end of the machine.  His likelihood of success was extremely slim and we expressed our disappointment in his decision.  Ben however wanted the snowman and positioned the claw above his target.  Then in unorthodox fashion, rather than press the release button, Ben let the game timer run down to zero.  The claw descended, clamped around the snowman, and wonder upon glorious wonders maintained its grip.  The stuffed snowman was lifted up into the air and traveled above the chute.  After a hard push on the machine from Ben’s 11-year-old older brother Jacob, the claw finally released and the stuffed snowman descended into our lives.  Ben had pulled off one of the greatest claw machine feats of our time.  He beamed with pride (his brother’s reluctantly acknowledged his success).

Being silly with Snowy.

For two weeks, Ben carried “Snowy” all around the house.  On one notable occasion, Snowy was even playfully tossed into the air and landed in the sink full of dishwater.  After a brief tour of duty in the dryer, Snowy again returned into Ben’s loving arms.  Snowy was a good friend to young Ben and a source of happiness.

Earlier this week, we noticed a rip in a seam connecting Snowy’s arm to his plump stuffed snowman body.  The author says with dripping sarcasm, “Who would have guessed that a claw machine toy could fall apart so soon?”  Snowy would need serious help.  Help that I could not provide on my own.  On Monday, we enlisted professional support and took Snowy to the seamstress.  Day after day, we awaited news on the results of Snowy’s surgery.  Earlier today, we could wait no longer.  We called and with great joy heard that Snowy was ready for pick-up.  Heading to the dry cleaner, who also provides mending services, Ben was reunited with Snowy.  For a small payment of $6.41, Ben’s friend Snowy was healed.

The repairs were nothing major for the professionals.  A small act, but oh how that small act brought young Ben so much joy.  Over the past week, we have experienced personal struggles (see “Pride”) that have challenged us in many painful ways.  Even in that pain however, we were surrounded by so much love.  Love expressed in so many different ways.  Calls, prayers, and messages of support.  People bravely expressing public words of encouragement.  Pick-me-up gifts through the mail and in person.  Hugs.  Flowers, wine, meals, and even a dear friend bringing us coffee.  All love.  All friendship.  All powerful.  We have been surrounded and lifted up by the love of God shown through others.  Truly humbling.  Truly holy.

So every day remember, tiny acts of love are simple, but incredibly powerful.  You can act on behalf of God in this sometimes broken world.  You can build others up.  Your simple acts can make a huge difference.  Just as a $6.41 stuffed animal repair may not seem like much to the seamstress, it can bring so much happiness to a young soul.  Thank you, friends.  You are the light that makes the world a better place.  You are the balm that daily heals our souls.

The triumphant return of Snowy the Stuffed Snowman.