[An address delivered at Congregation Mikveh Israel, Philadelphia, May 11, 1963]
I used to have a lecturer at college [Dr. Naftali Wieder] who had the habit of rubbing his thumb and forefinger together and saying: "Little things! Little things!" He did so when he found in a student what we would call "sloppiness", namely, lack of attention to detail.
The sound of that expression "Little things!" often rings in my ears, because little things are important. The children of Israel were commanded that on the second day of Passover they should offer up the omer, that is, a portion of meal from the new crop as a sign of their thankfulness. The rabbis express some surprise at this offering. The quantity was quite small, about a quart, although it was customary to prepare it with loving care. Moreover, it was of barley, which was one of the cheapest grains available. Eating barley was a sign of poverty. So after God in his goodness had kept them alive to see the new harvest with its bushels and bushels of grain, they offered him a quart of barley meal. Yet apparently the Holy One had a high opinion of the omer offering. The rabbis prove after their fashion that for the sake of this most offering Abraham inherited the land of Canaan, which was promised him, on condition that he should keep God's covenant, which is interpreted by them as referring to the barley offering. The omer moreover, was considered to be a most effective remedy for injurious winds and dews, in token of which the priest, when he made the offering, waved it back and forth and up and down.
Now why is such an apparently exaggerated importance ascribed to this quart of barley meal? I think because of its inner meaning. God does not need his own gifts. The Israelites had moved far from the heathen concept that a sacrifice is the food of the god. But by making this offering, they showed their gratitude, that is all. Not in a lavish, ostentatious manner, but by means of a little thing. And in God's eyes it was accounted a very great thing.
This teaches us the value of small gestures, costing the price of a quart of barley meal or less. It is the small acts of gratitude, consideration, helpfulness and courtesy, little things! that give life, sustenance and the hope that we may inherit our promised land.
Let me conclude with a story about a little thing and its result. Its moral I leave you to draw for yourself.
Recently, I attended a luncheon, and was seated near a distinguished lady, who is the director of the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization service in Philadelphia. The table was decorated with fresh cut daffodils, arranged artistically in front of the guests. As soon as the luncheon started, this lady took a few sips from her glass of water. Then she took all the daffodils within reach, and put them into her glass. I do not know if Emily Post permits such a procedure, but I can tell you this. By the time the luncheon was over, all the daffodils on the table were dead. The ones in the glass were as bright and fresh as before - little things!