D-Moments

The employer of a friend of mine uses a disciplinary measure called D-Day. If a person has too many unexcused absences, for example, they are assigned an unpaid day off and must demonstrate their desire to continue working for this organization by their written statement to that effect. That D-Day is a "decision day."

Although we probably don't take furlough days and write essays about why we want to continue holding our position, we usually face lots of minor decisions. Maybe D-moments? Shall I stop for my favorite caramel latte (three dollars) or shall I bring along a cup of coffee from my own kitchen? Shall I remind the middle-schooler—again—to take her homework to school or make him/her take the consequences? Shall I park here in the handicapped space—I'll only be three minutes, tops—or shall I find a spot farther away? (Now you do know what's right, don't you, and besides you won't have a choice about paying the ticket.) Shall I maintain control of the TV remote, or shall I share? Shall I buy show tickets for the whole family or not?

Sometimes our choices are between equally attractive options; sometimes they are about choosing what is wise. Sometimes our decisions reflect our sense of responsibility and fairness, sometimes our sense of fun. We may opt for the sensible, or we can throw caution to the winds. Sometimes we have to consider what is right as opposed to what is convenient. Not to give undue seriousness to these little actions, but a hymn written over a hundred fifty years ago reminds us that little D-moments do add up to something meaningful.


Little drops of water, little grains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean and the beauteous land.

And the little moments, humble though they may be,
Make the mighty ages of eternity.


Little deeds of kindness, little words of love,
Make our earth an Eden, like the heaven above.

So our little errors lead the soul away,
From the paths of virtue into sin to stray.

-- Julia Carney, 1845

MaryMartha

Art from http://www.sxc.hu/