By Bill Conley
Moral to the Story:
Big opportunities often begin with small tasks done with care and joy. When we
are faithful in the little things, others learn they can trust us with more. Every
great adventure starts with one simple step, one small act, one humble chore
done with love. God sees every little thing we do—and He delights in a heart
that serves cheerfully.
Mia
the Mouse and the Crumb-Sweeping Job
Mia the Mouse was the tiniest animal
in the whole town of Crumble Creek.
She lived in a cozy hole behind the warm brick oven of Mr. Tumble’s Bakery.
All day long, she listened to the sound of kneading dough, clinking pans, and
the sweet sizzle of cinnamon buns baking.
And every day, her little nose twitched at the delicious smells of chocolate
chip cookies, warm bread, and sugary pies.
Mia loved baking. Oh, how she
dreamed of wearing a baker’s hat, holding a whisk, and frosting cupcakes with
sprinkles.
But Mia was very small.
Too small to carry bowls.
Too small to stir heavy batter.
Too small to reach the shelves.
“No one needs a mouse to help in a
bakery,” she sighed.
Still, every evening after the
bakery closed, Mia peeked out and swept her own little floor with a broom made
from a twig and some thread.
She practiced sweeping and kept everything neat and clean.
She told herself, “One day, I’ll get my chance.”
Then one chilly evening, Mia found a
note tucked under a raisin bun near her door.
It was written in curly blue ink and said:
“Dear Mia,
We’ve noticed how clean things are lately.
Would you be willing to sweep the bakery each night?
Just the crumbs. Nothing big.
Sincerely,
Mr. Tumble”
Mia squeaked with joy!
“A job! My very own job!”
That night, she pulled out her
broom, tied a ribbon around her ears, and got to work.
She swept under the counters, around
the tables, behind the flour sacks, and even under the cookie trays.
She picked up every single crumb—big ones, little ones, even the ones hiding
under the stove.
And every night after, she came
back.
No one saw her, but the floors
sparkled. The shelves were neat. Even the flour bin was tidy.
One morning, Mr. Tumble scratched
his head and said,
“I’ve never seen the bakery so clean. What a mystery!”
Word began to spread:
“Mr. Tumble’s Bakery is the cleanest in Crumble Creek!”
Customers smiled. The mayor noticed. Even the health inspector gave it a shiny
gold star!
Mia never missed a night, even when
her tail was tired and her feet were sore.
One day, a bright poster appeared in
the bakery window.
“Crumble Creek’s Grand Cake Day!”
“We need help baking the biggest cake the town has ever seen!”
Mia stood on her tippy toes to read
the whole sign.
Her whiskers wiggled with excitement.
“That would be amazing,” she
whispered. “But they’ll never ask a mouse.”
But that night, as she was finishing
her sweeping, Mia heard a voice behind her.
“Mia?”
She spun around to see Mr. Tumble
kneeling beside her with a warm smile.
“You’ve done a wonderful job. The
bakery is spotless, and that’s all thanks to you.”
Mia’s ears turned pink.
Mr. Tumble continued, “I need
someone I can trust to help me bake the Grand Cake. Would you do me the honor?”
Mia’s eyes grew wide. “Me? Bake the
Grand Cake?”
“You’ve been faithful in the small
jobs. I know you’ll do the big job just as well.”
Mia nodded quickly. “Yes! I’d love
to!”
The next morning, Mia put on a teeny
apron made from an old napkin.
She stood proudly beside Mr. Tumble, who handed her a measuring cup.
Together, they gathered flour,
sugar, and eggs.
They stirred the batter in a bowl as big as a bathtub.
Mia cracked the eggs perfectly.
She stirred and stirred until the batter was smooth.
She even piped little icing flowers on the corners with a steady paw.
The cake baked all day and all
night.
It was bigger than a table and
taller than a stack of books.
It had layers of vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate.
It smelled like sweet dreams.
When the cake was wheeled into the
town square, everyone gasped.
“Who helped make this beautiful
cake?” asked the mayor.
Mr. Tumble smiled and pointed. “It
was Mia the Mouse.”
The crowd clapped and cheered. Some
animals even cried.
Mia waved shyly. Her heart was full.
Later that evening, as she swept the
last few crumbs from the square, Mia looked up at the stars and whispered,
“Thank you, God, for letting me be
faithful in the little things. I’ll keep sweeping and serving with joy.”
Moral
to the Story Poem:
Small
acts done with care each day,
Open up a bigger way.
Start with crumbs and end with cake,
That’s how faithful hearts are great.
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