Beliefnet
"I'm keeping it a secret," young Heather said as she knelt beside her bed saying her prayers. Mom was just outside her door when she over heard the conversation between her daughter and God.

It had been predicted that this day would be an average spring day, as far as the weatherman could see. But his forecast was based on scientific facts, not the prayers of a little girl. For by the end of this otherwise normal day, it would be a glorious one.

Mom and Dad were up early as usual, to get ready for work. Like any other day they fumbled in the morning fog that filled their minds. Like robots they went about their daily routine.Reaching in to start the shower, Mom came across a note taped on the wall. Opening it she read, "You are loved!" printed in mixed colorful crayon. Dad came walking in just then. "I found this in my sock drawer," he said. They exchanged notes.

"Did you plan this with her?" he asked.

"No, I didn't. She obviously did this on her own," Mom replied.

They both headed to the young child's room and upon entering they found her standing there, already dressed and ready for school.

This was quite a shock for it usually took a few attempts to get her up and going.

"This is such a wonderful surprise," Mom said standing there with the two notes in hand.

"What surprise?" Heather replied.

"The two notes you left for us," Dad said.

Taking them in hand she said, " I didn't do this."

"Well, who did?" Mom asked.

"I guess it is a secret," she replied as she struggled to hold back herlaughter. "Today is Secret Day!"

"What's Secret Day?," Dad asked.

"I can't tell you..." she said.

"It's a secret!" her parents said in unison.

They all continued on their morning rituals. As always, Dad left for work first for his drive into the city took extra time. Mom, stood outside and waited for the school bus before heading to her office. Kissing her child goodbye she watched as she boarded the bus. Climbing up the steps, she turned and said, "Happy Secret Day, Mom!"

Throughout the day both Mom and Dad discovered more hand written notes with the same message neatly printed in crayon.

"I found one in my sport coat pocket, my briefcase, and I even found one in my shoe," Dad said in a mid day phone conversation with Mom.

"Me too!" she said. "There was even one in the refrigerator taped to my lunch."

As the work day came to an end, Mom anxiously waited for her child to be dropped off. As the school bus door opened the driver leaned out and said "Happy Secret Day!" as she waved a small note in the air.

"Honey, the bus driver got one, too?" Mom asked of her child.

"I don't know, it's a secret," she said.

The young child went to her room to change into her play clothes. Momheaded to the phone to check for messages.

"Beep" the tape system sounded. "Mrs. Anderson, this is Heather's teacher. I just wanted to tell you that was an wonderful idea. Your daughter touched so many lives today, including my own. The Principal, lunch ladies and our janitor, Mr. Bennett all got one of her notes. "Happy Secret Day!" "Beep"

Just then Heather came walking in. "I am so very proud of you. What alovely thing you did for everyone, " Mom said.

The young girl paused for a moment and said, "But Mommy, it's supposed to be a secret."

"Well, it will be. Just between you and I. But why did you decide to do all of this?" Mom asked.

"Mommy, yesterday in church, the pastor thanked everyone for the things they did for him. You know his wife died. He said, "I wonder if she knew how much she was loved?" she said. "Then he talked about all the things she did to help people, but she did it secretly and would always say it was God."

Mom stooped down and swept Heather off her feet. Hugging her with pride, as tears of joy washed down her cheeks, Mom said, "You are loved and that's no secret!"

"Happy Secret Day, Mommy!"

We are all called to love one another, to do things for others and not boast of them.

I hereby declare tomorrow, "Secret Day" and ask that you find ways to let others in your life know how much they are loved and appreciated.

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