That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
William Wordsworth, "Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey"

As we enter more deeply into our own inner being, especially when we prepare to retire to bed, we are well advised to reflect dispassionately on the course of the day's work, both on the outstanding events and on our emotional reactions to their challenge. What we desire most is comfort and security, for then our equilibrium remains undisturbed and we can enjoy the present moment without forebodings of trouble. But life does not deal so considerately with us: we are continually being jolted out of our rut of easy satisfaction by circumstances that alternatively irritate, anger or frighten us. It is our full response to these incursions into our peace of mind that is the measure of our spiritual condition.

When we are called on to help a friend at the cost of our own convenience, do we, like the householder described in Luke 11.5-8, respond harshly and ungraciously, or do we give of our time and resources unstintingly? If we have indeed shown an uncharitable strain, we do well to recollect the matter and give our apologies to God. One hopes that, as in that parable, one did relent in time, so that a cordial relationship was maintained with the other person. If one's recalcitrance persisted, the confession to God should be followed as soon as possible by an apology to one's neighbour. However, not all recollections need have a dark, negative face. There are occasions in a day's toil when one may be agreeably surprised by one's charity, a spontaneous outpouring of caring to someone in distress, quite probably a complete stranger who then passes on his or her way as if there had been no encounter.

The practice of meditating on major events in a day's life before one goes to bed is strongly to be recommended. How one has behaved is an excellent indication of one's state of spiritual health. What is called for is not a period of morbid introspection in which the state of one's soul is pondered upon in humourless intensity, but rather a reflection on the sum of the day's achievements and experiences, with a comment on one's reaction to the test.

We tend quite often to denigrate ourselves, comparing ourselves unfavourably with some other person or even with an acknowledged saint. And yet we know little of the inner life of those whom we especially admire. St Teresa of Avila prayed, "God deliver us from sullen saints." It is not the virtuousness of a person that necessarily testifies to his or her spiritual excellence. Many of Jesus' parables and encounters in real life appear to prefer the acknowledged sinner who confesses his or her fault to their cold, clean-living detractors who sadly lack any spark of common humanity. This may indeed have been extinguished by their obsessional striving for inner purity to the detriment of warm, accommodating compassion.

And so it is our humble, scarcely remembered acts of kindness, especially when we were hard pressed with little time to spare amid our busy schedule, that are the best part of our lives. By these we will be remembered, not so much by a grateful person thanking us effusively for our good offices, but by many toilers on the way whose travail we have spontaneously lightened by our courtesy and consideration, when they were in the darkness of death and completely disillusioned about human kindness.

I thank you, Lord, for the pattern of generous living which you have provided in the witness of the many people around me who have supported me by their innate kindness. May my own heart so expand in compassion that I too can bring the rays of your love to my fellows in the course of my work during the remainder of my life on earth.