Hey kids, can I tell you two stories today? OK, good. The stories today are about two amazing women, people who on the surface, if we passed them on the street, we might not think twice about them. But when we are invited to see into their hearts, we are amazed.

The first story is from the first reading this morning. We meet a widow who lived 600 years before Jesus at a time when there was a really bad drought across the land. Food was hard to come by. One day, a widow was gathering sticks for a small cooking fire for her and her son. As a widow at that time, she had limited means to provide for herself and her son. The drought was so bad that she, in fact, was down to her last handful of flour and a little oil with which she could bake a little bread. After that, they would have no food left.

Close your eyes and put yourself in her shoes as she gathered sticks… what was she feeling? She was probably thinking that this would be the last time she could provide for her son. She’d probably give him all of the bread and she would have nothing to eat because she loved her son. She was probably feeling fear, maybe resignation, maybe anger at God for letting this drought happen. Or maybe, maybe she felt trust that God would provide… somehow.

And then along comes Elijah, a great prophet of God. He asks her for a drink of water and for a little bread. She explains that she has almost nothing left, but Elijah tells her that God will provide and so she does what he asks. As she is baking the bread, does she feel fear, or maybe hope? “I hope he’s right!” she thinks. Did she trust in God and not doubt? I think she did.

As she baked, I imagine she prayed in hope. And when there was flour in her jar and oil in her jug the next day, she prayed a prayer of thanksgiving and praise. 

Then in the Gospel reading today, we hear the second story. Jesus is sitting across the street from the donation box where people would put money to donate to the temple treasury. Jesus watched as a poor widow came and put two small coins into the box, and then walked away. She donated her last two coins and then she also had absolutely nothing left. She didn’t do it with any fanfare for all to see. She didn’t say, “Look what I did.” Jesus helps us look into her heart.

Let us again close our eyes and put ourselves in this poor widow’s shoes. What did she feel as she dropped those coins in the donation box? Did she feel fear and obligation, or joy and love? Was she anxious about what would happen next? Did she turn around and walk home or did she go to the temple to pray?

So, what about us? If that was us dropping our last dollar into the donation box or gathering sticks for a last meal, what would we feel? Anger? Fear… or trust?

Both of these women must have had an incredible relationship with God to trust as they did. The first widow to bake bread and give it to Elijah, and not her son, and the second to drop her last coins into the treasury. You don’t do that unless you deeply believe. Believe in our Creator. Believe in His loving care for us. Believe in Him completely.

Because of that deep, deep level of love and trust, I think they both went about their actions with joy and had faith that this was not the end for them. I imagine they lived lives such that when they faced a problem, they didn’t dwell on it, they instead prayed and trusted. I wish my faith was that strong! But maybe that’s the purpose of these accounts – to trust in our heavenly Father, to not dwell in anxiety, to not dwell in fear. To instead dwell in His arms when we are anxious, to turn it over to Him in prayer and to praise Him when in fact he does answer our need, relieve our stress, help solve our problems. 

Do we? Do we trust and praise like that?

These widows are models for us to follow because they demonstrate a life devoted and committed to God. They model:

• How to live
• How to pray
• How to trust
• How to be thankful

They are loving mothers. They are loving daughters of God. They are loving disciples and they are loving role models. They’ve set the bar high, but isn’t that where the bar is supposed to be?