I see thimbleberries in bloom near the state park. Their white blossoms seem suddenly to appear, as if by magic. When we first moved to the island, a friend brought a thimbleberry pie as dessert. She was closed-mouth about where the berries came from. According to her husband, she’d once shared her best picking site with someone else, and that person picked it clean. Since then, the next-best patch was her secret, not to be given out. While thimbleberries may be limited in availability, how blessed we are, Lord, that your message is not limited; rather it increases with the sharing. When I speak to another of your love and forgiveness, that love, that forgiveness is not diminished but multiplied in the giving. As I speak of your love, I am the recipient of still greater love. Thank you, Lord, for small gifts like thimbleberries and for the greatest gift of your Son, and for a message that multiplies. Amen.