I was thinking also how her response is surpassed only by the teenage Mary, who responds to the angel Gabriel’s (surprise) visit by saying,
“Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.” (Luke 1:38) Say what? (Is there even a word for their faith, for what they inspire?)

As for my experience: I’ve come to learn that giving out of poverty (of time, money, presence) becomes easier with practice. When I had plenty – money, status, possessions – I often gave begrudgingly, ostentatiously or out of obligation. But over the past few years I’ve let go of a lot of “plenty” and found my
“enoughness.” I felt empty for a while, like a field laying fallow. But when I was replanted, giving grew like kudzu. I like that.

Persons who travel abroad, particularly to less developed regions, often find the hospitality and generosity of the local population amazing, and clearly disproportionate to that shown to visitors to more developed locations.

Some of that may be attributable to the “anonymity and invisibility” of individuals in larger societies, but, even adjusting for that factor, I think we find that often persons with meager means appreciate the importance of small benefits and simple blessings.

Having had hunger abated by a morsel of bread, they are willing to share a piece of their small bread with someone who has even less because they can empathize with the other’s plight, and appreciate that a piece that would seem insignificant to someone with plenty, will be greatly valued by someone with nothing.

Simple hospitality, freely offered with love, is a great blessing and actualization of “doing small things with love.”

Of course, in the biblical story, the widow is rewarded for her hospitality by God and Elijah, but clearly there was no promise or expectation of such good fortune when she sacrificed. Nor are the rewards of one’s sacrifice always so patent.

I see that “The Other Sister Julie” has already responded and mentions her parents. I hope that she does not mind that I mention that her recently departed mother- truly of sainted memory- seems to have been a great exemplar of this virtue. Although I do not know Sister Julie other than through this blog, and of her mother, only through an obituary, I think the following from that obituary speaks volumes:

In addition to her role as mother, Anna was a passionate volunteer and
member of St. Joseph Catholic Church, Upland. Her service included
involvement and leadership in St. Bernadette’s Guild, the Altar and
Rosary Society, the Italian Catholic Federation, Eucharistic Ministry,
Ministry to the Sick, Fall Festival, Arts and Crafts Class, and
wherever needed, including caring for her MSC priests whom she thought
of as her sons [she had five daughters!]. Her dedicated service earned her the Benemerenti Award from Pope John Paul II for lifetime service to her parish
community. As her mobility declined, she opened her home to the
lovely women who would join her in crocheting blankets, hats, and
slippers for patients at rest homes and, most recently, for patients
at Lanterman Developmental Center, who honored her as Donor of the
Year in 2006.

Hoping that all are blessed, and that we are instruments of God’s blessings …

I had a most amazing thing happen to me as a postulant. The sisters sent us all to the local Catholic college, expecting us to pay for half of our tuition. I had already graduated from a state university before entering, but the sisters wanted me to have some theology courses. I balked at the fees. One class cost more than one whole year at my college back home! Well, I was at daily Mass in the college chapel, fretting over money. At Offertory, I put all of the money I had on me into the collection basket (47 cents). I prayed for a miracle for my dilemma.

A day or so later, one of my classmates had a family friend come to visit us. He was a traveling salesman and a member of the Knights of Columbus. He asked our group, “Does anyone need a scholarship?” GAAH! I gave from my need and received in abundance, gosh, just like the Bible promised.