To mark the start of Lent our church had an inspiring two-night mission service.

Often times I hear something inspiring and try to retain it in my memory bank.

I used to be extraordinarily good at that. I could read or hear something and it would be stored in my memory bank for retrieval whenever I wanted. Not any more.

Maybe after all these years of storing information my memory bank is full.

About once a week or two my cellphone tells me it can no longer store phone messages because my phone’s memory bank is full.

It’s easy to fix that problem by simply deleting some messages.

I think my brain also must now automatically delete some information so it can fit in new messages.

At least that’s what I tell myself but I know the real reason is probably age.

I’ve had to adapt a few tricks to retain information.

I’ve learned the best way to retain something is to write it down.

Because I knew the powerful speakers at the mission would be sharing worthwhile thoughts I wanted to remember, I sat there with pen and notebook.

But the most inspiring thoughts weren’t spoken. It was a simple candle lighting ceremony that had the most punch for me.

After we were each given a candle, the ushers lighted the candle of those sitting in the end seat. In turn we lighted the candle of the person next to us until everyone had a lighted candle.

In the past I’ve taken part in candle ceremonies like that. All I could usually think of was that I hoped my candle didn’t extinguish itself before the ceremony was over.

This time the ceremony took a different twist when we were invited to turn around and look behind us.

When I did what I saw was a sea of shining lights, more than a thousand shining lights.

Although each of us only had a candle equal to a miniature light, when we turned around and saw all the candles together our little light became part of something awe inspiring.

It made me think of the times when I tried to help someone but all I was able to do was offer the equivalent of a weak light.

That was the case when I was riding my bike one hot day. (It’s Florida, remember, we get blazing hot days just about year round.)

When I was miles away from home I saw a young man trying to push his bike up a hill. His bike had two flat tires and his face was red from exertion.

He told me he had spent the night at a homeless camp and still had many miles to go as he tried to go to a place where he could get the tires fixed.

He had no water and I figured the homeless guy also had no food. Although he never asked for anything, I gave him the money I had with me along with my bottle of water.

While I was happy to give him the little bit of help I could, I knew it was so little compared to his needs.

The money I gave him would only buy lunch.

If I would have had my car instead of my bike, I could have taken him to our St. Vincent de Paul charity because they often provide bikes for the homeless.

I did what I could. But I knew it wasn’t enough.

During the candle ceremony when I turned around and saw how a thousand lights turned one little candle light into something very special, I thought it could symbolize the difference between one person’s light versus that of a community.

Helping the homeless definitely requires a community - a big caring community. After Hurricane Ira many people who once had homes suddenly were homeless.

One person can do a little. But many joined together in a caring community can do much more.

We left the church with our candles still burning instead of leaving them inside as is the usual custom. The idea is to stress being a light for others in our everyday life.

That doesn’t have to mean big, grand acts. It can be something as simple as serving as a listening post for someone who needs a willing ear. Or offering encouragement to someone who is struggling.

Sometimes we all need a little help.

When I was shopping at the grocery store I needed help in reaching vegetables in the top shelf of the freezer. I looked around and didn’t see anyone so I was going to risk standing on the freezer ledge.

Instead, a young man drinking a soda came up and asked what I was trying to do. He had no problem reaching the vegetables I wanted on the top shelf.

I thanked him and said he made my day.

His face lighted up and he said I didn’t know how good it made him feel to be able to help someone. He was still smiling when he walked away.

See, a simple act of kindness left us both glowing.

Be a helping light whenever you can.

Every time you do two people will benefit. The one who gets the help and the one who gives it.

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net