This past Sunday was All Saint's Day. I asked my grandson what a saint was. He said with a wry smile. "It is a kind of holy person who is not a minister, priest or pope"-in other words no one who is paid to be religious. There is a lot of truth here. It is someone who cares because he cares, not because he is supposed to care. Jesus said, "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another just as I have loved you. By this everyone will know you are my disciple."

In the early church, the saints were the everyday Christians... the "you" and "me" of the church. They were not the "super" saints... St Paul, St. John, St. Francis. If they saw a need they responded... quietly, patiently, caringly.

Five years ago my mother lived alone in the family farm house. She was starting to have trouble caring for herself, fixing meals, etc. Once a week, Sylvia would fix her dinner, bake a pie and bring it to her. She came summer and winter, walking  two miles each way. Sylvia is Amish. The caring was far more important than the inconvenience.

One evening I was asked to give a talk on parenting to a group of young parents. The leader of the group greeted me and asked me to meet Mrs. Coleman. A beautiful outgoing woman with sparking eyes. She as 81. She told me her story.

"I am here because of James who is 12. When James was 6, his mother died and his grandfather, Mr. Evans, took him. Three years later when James was 9, Mr. Evans, shared with me that he was ill and would have to give James up. I told Mr. Evans he needed to pray about what he was going to do. This is a big decision. Four days later, Mr Evans told me that he prayed and God told him to give James to me. I told him I would have to pray about that. James was 9 and I was 78. James has been a blessing to me. I wake in the morning and there is a sticky on the regrigerator, 'I love you Mom.' Or 'thanks'

Sylvia and Mrs. Coleman are among the quiet saints... "you are my disciples if you have love."