Lenten sacrifices focus on meaningful acts

Many Christians are now in the season of Lent, the period between Ash Wednesday (yesterday) and Easter. During these 40 days, Christians typically observe Jesus’ fasting in the desert before beginning his ministry.

 As a child, I remember observing Lent by having to give up something I enjoyed eating and refraining from eating meat on Fridays. This was not a particularly pleasant time for me—giving up my precious candy was difficult, and I hated fish.

 As a child, I failed to understand the reason behind giving up my favorite candies for Lent—Bit-O’Honey, Mary Janes, Jujy Fruits, gumdrops, Good & Plenty, Boston Baked Beans, Necco Wafers, Chuckles, and Sugar Daddies.

 Once a week, my father would drive to downtown Providence on Route 10 (since Route 95 had not yet been built), where he would send me, alone, into a little hole-in-the-wall store to purchase his favorite cigars. He would always give me a nickel, and I would carefully pick out five pieces of penny candy.

 Every Friday during Lent, the smell of fish frying in the pan makes me nauseous. I would pretend to eat it, all while sneaking pieces to our family dog, who sat anxiously at my feet, waiting for me to drop unwanted morsels.

 I was overjoyed when Easter finally arrived, mostly because I knew a large basket of candy would be waiting for me—delivered by the Easter Bunny, of course. However, I could not eat any of it right away, as we had to fast for three hours before receiving communion. I impatiently had to wait until after church to finally enjoy my treats. Excitedly, I would put on my new Easter dress, patent leather shoes, and Easter bonnet and my mom and I would head off to church.

 Of course, the real meaning of Lent goes beyond simply giving up favorite foods. It is a season of spiritual reflection, repentance, and preparation for Easter. As a child, I didn’t fully understand this—but as an adult, I do.

 I intentionally try to cheer people up, and sincere compliments naturally flow from me. If someone is wearing a pretty color, a cute blouse, or has beautiful, flowing curls, I make sure to compliment them. I can almost always find something to praise. (My mother was great at that—if my room was a mess and she wanted to give me a compliment, she’d look around, then up, and say, “My, what a pretty ceiling you have!”)

 When I’m out in the community, I make a point to greet people with eye contact, a smile, and a cheerful “Good morning!” or “Good afternoon!” Most people smile back, and for some, it may be the only smile they receive that day. I’ve also found that if I’m feeling grumpy, returning a smile lifts my spirits too—so it’s a simple gesture that benefits both others and myself.

 As an extra act of sacrifice during Lent, I take the time to write heartfelt cards to people who have had a significant impact on my life. Each card is cute and fun, with a personal message of gratitude. With my busy schedule, setting aside time for this can be a challenge, which makes it feel like a meaningful Lenten sacrifice.

 Lent is also a meaningful time for me to give back to the Church Beyond Walls, a street church community in Providence that serves many individuals experiencing homelessness. For about $100 on Amazon, I purchase a bulk supply of 150 personal care travel kits, each containing essentials like a toothbrush and toothpaste, mouthwash, a nail file, a sewing kit, a shaving set, and wet wipes. The product description amusingly claims they are “beautifully designed to bring elegance to any upscale property”—which should add a touch of sophistication to Burnside Park, where the church service is held.

 My Lenten sacrifices focus on meaningful acts of kindness rather than simply giving up small indulgences. Instead of forgoing candy or only eating fish on Fridays, I choose to use my time and resources to uplift others. These acts may require more effort, but they bring a deeper sense of purpose and connection, making my Lenten journey truly fulfilling.