One Sunday at my church, the choir had finished singing the anthem and the pastor was rising to deliver the message. It was a moment of holy expectation.

Suddenly, a teenage girl, third from the left on the front row of the choir, rose and stepped out across her fellow choir members and around the piano. Clad in maroon robe and gold stole, she made her way down the steps and toward the side aisle.

I thought, If she is going to leave, she should go out the back.

But she was not leaving. She made her way to the fourth row of pews, sat down next to her friend and gently placed her arm around her.

Then I knew. Twelve hours earlier her friend had lost her grandmother, who had been suffering from an illness. Her friend came to church to restore her strength through worship. Arriving late, she found an open pew to herself.

As Leslie sat next to Bethany and gently hugged her, those in the congregation smiled and shed small tears of joy, of love for the friend who showed Christ's love through a simple act of companionship. She risked causing a distraction to minister to a friend.

Such are the small acts of kindness and love that are the fabric of a congregation.

The pastor delivered a strong message that day. So did Leslie.