Zechariah 4

The Small Things That Count

Who hath despised the day of small things? Zechariah 4:10.

Today I want to tell you two stories. The first story is about a weed, and the second is about a flower.

1. Did you ever hear of the khaki weed? It is a great pest in some parts of South Africa. And how do you think it came by its strange name? Well, it was called the khaki weed because it was brought to South Africa at the time of the South African War. Before that time the weed was unknown in that country, but during the war great quantities of forage were brought from the Argentine, and among the forage were some seeds of this weed. Wherever the forage was unloaded the seeds blew about; and some of them liked the new ground and took root.

That was the beginning of it, but it was by no means the end. For the plant is one of those that stretch along the ground, and wherever a seed took root and grew the plant crept a little farther every day. Today the weed has overgrown whole districts and has become such a nuisance that the farmers are ordered to destroy it. And all because of a few mischievous seeds that were blown about.

2. The second story is about a flower. So far as I know it never was more than one little flower. It didn't spread like the khaki weed, and yet it did a tremendous lot of good all by itself.

It grew more than a hundred years ago, in the days when Napoleon Bonaparte was Emperor of France.

There were many men in France then who did not agree with the Emperor or approve of his conduct, and some of these men Napoleon threw into prison. Among them was a wise scholar called Charney.

Now Charney was a clever man, but he had made one big mistake. He had given up believing in God. He had been so long in prison that he thought God had forgotten him, as the Emperor had, and that He no longer cared for him. So he wrote on the wall of his cell, “All things come by chance.” He was so unhappy that he did not believe there was a God who watched over and cared for His creatures here below.

But one day when Charney was pacing up and down his cell he saw a tiny green blade trying to push its way through the hard ground quite near the wall. It was a tiny plant. How it came there I don't know. Perhaps God just sent it. The prisoner became interested in the little plant. It was the only living thing in the cell besides himself, and it became his friend and teacher. Day by day he watered it, and tended it, and watched it growing.

Later a bud came on the plant, and presently the bud opened into a flower a beautiful flower, white and purple and rose-colored, with a white fringe round the edge.

Then Charney began to wonder and to think. He thought that if God could take so much care and trouble about a little prison flower, surely He must care for him. So he rubbed out the words he had written on the wall “All things come by chance” and in their place he wrote, “He who made all things is God.”

Now in that great prison there was another prisoner whose little daughter used to visit him. And this little girl became acquainted with Charney. She found out about the flower and about Charney s love for it, and after that she often came to see it and the man who had befriended it.

One day she told the story of the flower to the jailer's wife, and the tale went from one to the other until at last it reached the ears of the beautiful Empress Josephine, Napoleon's wife. The Empress was very much interested. She was sure that a man who could care so much for a little flower could not have done anything very bad, and she persuaded her husband to set Charney free.

So at last Charney received his liberty. When he left the prison he took with him the little plant that had procured his release and, better still, had taught him to love and to trust God. And he planted it in his own garden and tended it ever after with the greatest love and care.

Now I don't need to say much about these two stories, but perhaps you have noticed that each, in its own way, tells us very much the same thing not to despise little things.

Don ' t despise the little had things. They have a tremendous power for evil. Don't think it doesn't matter if you are just a little cross, just a little selfish, just a little mean, just a little untruthful or dishonest. Nobody ever started by being a big bit of any of them. These faults grow and spread like the khaki weed, and if we let them get big and strong it is almost impossible to root them out. The only safe way is to pluck them up when they are seedlings.

And don ' t despise the little good things. They have a tremendous power for good.

God takes as much trouble to make a speck of dust as to make a universe, and Jesus taught men the value of small things a mustard seed, a grain of corn, a lily, a sparrow, a little child.

Take trouble to do the little things well, even though it is only running an errand, or writing a page in a copy-book. Once a boy at Rugby thought it did not matter how he wrote. Many men of genius, he said, wrote badly. And when he grew up he became an officer in the British Army and went out to fight in the Crimea. One day he copied an order so badly that it could not be properly read and was incorrectly given, and many lives were lost in consequence.

Once more, don ' t despise the little opportunities of being kind and doing good. Don't wait for the big ones to come along. Seize the small ones. Perhaps the big ones may never come your way, but the small ones may have big results. Remember the little prison flower. You can never tell where a good deed may end. You can never tell what a lot of good you may accomplish just by doing your duty and being helpful and loving.

Do what you can, being what you are;

Shine like a glow-worm, if you cannot like a star,

Work like a pulley, if you cannot be a crane,

Be a wheel greaser, if you cannot drive the train.