On a frigid morning, here’s my son Luke climbing toward a large waterfall above Lake Louise. In this picture, I appreciate the little tree growing to Luke’s right.

In Clairvaux Manifesto, the word “little” is a big deal.

I wrote about our kids as passionate little creators. I wrote about Dar praying on the little steps outside Mother Teresa’s bedroom in Calcutta.

Regarding Advent, I wrote, “From his first breath, Jesus of Bethlehem was a thirsty little refugee clinging to the edge of the human condition.”

I wrote about a young couple who met Jesus for the first time, “…they looked like little children, faces shining.”

I put the reader in a little boat,

But what about sea kayaking solo along a rocky west coast shore and accidentally disturbing a golden eagle who is feasting on the carcass of a sea lion? You come around a corner, stroke, stroke, stroke, and out from behind a rock next to you, a giant golden eagle swoops into the air right over your shoulder. With one thrust of its six foot wingspan, the strength of that bird’s wings nearly rocks you out of your little boat. Your eyes immediately well up with tears and adrenaline pounds through your veins. You have just experienced a thimble full of majesty.

I tell stories about a little horn; little hail; little snail; little flag of Israel; little bird; little church; little prayer platoon; drunken little city; little puppy Simon; and a little star of David.

I made sure the last words in the manifesto are from Jesus’ lips, about his little flock of sheep.

True leadership is about keeping watch over all the little things.