The stories of the widows in the bible, with names and without names, give us a distinct opportunity to appreciate how God protects and defends them. They gave us a point of admiration on how they live a life of faith.

It was 16 years ago when my brother-in-law died, the bereaved wife was my sister, a young widow left with three kids. With the death of her husband, my sister faced anxiety and the uncertainty of their future, She worked hard during the day and night without sleep to provide for the daily needs of her children. She generously gave herself – entrusting to God their lives without a man who would provide and protect them. My mother is a widow too, though she wasn’t faced with anxiety of thinking where to get her daily living since all of us are already grownups. I felt the pain she keeps in heart: we lost a father but she lost a husband who in her entire life gave the best though they struggled a lot to raise us, their children. The loss of my father left her suffering from dementia, slowly losing her memory.

While gathering sticks for cooking, the widow of Zarephath met Elijah in the First Book of Kings. During his journey, Elijah begged the widow for bread and water to drink, putting her in the shoes of a host who has nothing to offer a guest. The fact that she only had a cupful of flour and a little of oil in her jug, however, caused the woman to react modestly and seemingly concerned. The widow’s hushed word reached Elijah’s ears. With an assurance of trust, Elijah tells the widow “not to be afraid,” and the widow obediently responds to his request.

The gospel of Mark reminded me of a single parent who set up money for her family’s necessities, including food, education, clothing, and housing. She hasn’t forgotten the temple’s treasury, though. Jesus focused most of his attention on the attitude of the impoverished widow, even though he noted that many wealthy individuals contributed substantial amounts to the treasury. God is aware of the empoverished widow’s charity because, despite her financial limitations, she never thinks twice about giving away the last two cents she has in her pocket.

All of us have a place in God’s heart, but especially he has a distinct gaze for a widows who are struggling “to make the ends meet”.  For God it is not important the quantity of our giving but the quality of our giving. The widow of Zarephath live in abundance because she trusted into God’s providence; she gave all that she had in risk without knowing if they still have something to eat on the following days on their table.  God sees the sacrifices of all of us. I know that widows are resourceful individuals who use their creativity to make their lives fulfilling.

Fr. Palau, whose feast day we celebrated a couple of days ago, says that “my life is the only thing I could offer in return of Church’s love.” He never thought of what would remain for him after his giving.

My mother who is losing her memory reminds me of the song “take and receive”, an offertory song that makes me think that what we offer back to God are the graces we received from Him, our giftedness, our will, our liberty, all that we have and even our memories. As she loses her memories and she doesn’t remember us all of her children, we surround her with especial love, care and attention. Perhaps God let this happen to her in order to not to think so much of the bitter memories of the things she passed through in the past, all her sacrifices and depravation. My mother is a cheerful widow who loved my father so much that what remains to her are only the most special memories that they have lived together, his name and the happiness they shared together.

This Sunday challenges us to examine in our heart the willingness and the quality of our giving. Though we are not widow, resembling to the widow of Zarephath what is the last cupful of flour and a little of oil of our jug we could offer to God and the widow in the temple like her are we willing to give-up the remaining last two coins in our pocket. May the God who sees our sacrifices bless us with a cheerful heart that knows giving without counting the cost.