When I began the journey of reclaiming my Indigenous heritage, many of the Elders who mentored me, told me to start learning beadwork as a place of entry. The craft quickly took on a life beyond mere art for art’s sake. The process itself became a meditative practice allowing me to spend extended times in prayer and worship. 

Eventually, I was taught about protocol that tied directly with beadwork. Whenever we meet someone new, or when we want to honor someone, or even when we are using a new pattern for the first time, we are to gift that piece to someone else. This gift-giving protocol was a tangible form of relationship building. It reminded me of Abraham visiting the King and Priest of Salem or the three Zoroastrian magi visiting toddler Jesus. The gift of creation is turned outward to those around us, creating a place of blessing for the giver and the receiver. I eagerly took up the practice, not thinking about the deeper impact that it could have. 

As I sat in my window seat on the plane, I glanced over at the woman sitting next to me. I then reached into my book bag and pulled out my box of beads and my tool bag. Pausing a moment to say a prayer and to think about what pattern to make, I arranged my tools on the lowered table connected to the seat in front of me. The lady glanced over, a couple times sizing up the situation before returning to her book. My hands deftly guided the needle through the beads as the snowflake pattern unfolded. I attached the earring hooks and punched the holes in my business card to hold the newly crafted jewelry. I flipped it over and wrote a note: “These are for you. Just my way of bringing a smile into the world.” I tapped her on the shoulder and handed her the card with the earrings dangling below. Surprised, she asked, “for me?” After I nodded yes, she didn’t smile. She asked me how long I have been making jewelry and then began to weep. Taken aback, I asked her if she was okay. She then proceeded to tell me how she was attending a funeral for her friend who had passed away only a week before and that the friend was also a jewelry maker. This gift was a timely reminder of her dear friend too soon departed. 

I had not planned this. I didn’t know her state of grief. However, the simple act of generosity brought a glimmer of healing in the midst of a difficult season for this woman. It seemed such a small gesture, but the impact ran deep. 

I wonder how much healing and relationship building can be furthered among justice workers if we learned to engage in gift-giving protocol as a part of our ministry. This isn’t about the gift in and of itself, but rather about the posture of my heart toward those I am approaching to serve. 

The message of Abraham to the King of Salem was that “We honor you and we come in peace. Please bless us.” The magi, likewise said with their gifts “we honor you; you are destined for great things.” Would it not be a beautiful expression of our love to say to those we serve “we honor you; you are valuable to God and to me.” 

The smallest acts of generosity can have effects on the receiver in ways that we could not have planned for, allowing space for the Spirit to work things back toward shalom, or right relationship. My encouragement for all is to ask yourself, “What acts of generosity can flow from the gifts God has given you and how can you offer them in the service of shalom?”

“And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly that person will certainly not lose their reward.” Matthew 10:42 (NIV)