WASHINGTON, Pa. (AP) _ It might seem like a big boy's game. But even the smallest churches with the sparest of congregations, when they put their hearts into it, can do an amazing amount of community outreach. Just ask the congregants of tiny Davidson United Methodist Church in South Strabane.

Even though it draws fewer than 30 worshippers on a typical Sunday, the church on East National Pike is a familiar face to the Interfaith Hospitality Network of the South Hills, which relies on volunteers to serve meals and help house the homeless. Its parishioners are equally generous with their pocketbooks, donating hundreds of dollars several times a year to several local charities, including the Washington City Mission and the Greater Washington County Food Bank.

But what about the not-so-faithful who are in spiritual need but don't feel comfortable attending church services? Or those who are simply looking for a quiet place to reflect or pray when they're on the road, far from home? Davidson's congregation is offering them a helping hand, too.

In December, members erected a miniature chapel on a thick patch of gravel in the church's front yard. With it came an open invitation to any and all who might be passing by to step through its charming Dutch door, settle at one of the two linen-covered card tables under its roof and _ as a small wooden sign outside quietly encourages _ "Rest with God and Pray."

"We're always trying to get people to come to church," explained congregant Judy Chappel of Washington, who has been an active member since 1972, "and thought if people stopped here and saw this, they'd like the idea and would feel more free to come to church."

Given its Lilliputian appearance, more than one community member has assumed the chapel was a playhouse for Sunday school children, said Chappel. And indeed, the white-painted wood structure, which measures a scant 8 feet by 12 feet and is barely tall enough to stand in, most certainly will play a part in the Bible school the church holds each summer with Scenery Hill United Methodist Church, with whom it shares a minister. The various Bibles, religious books on tape and small note pads for prayer requests that top the tables, though, show it's really geared more toward the grown-ups.

At a time when megachurches are on the rise, offering the faithful such a tiny building in which to worship might strike some as, well, goofy. But being such a small congregation, it doesn't take much to make people feel like they're making a difference, said Chappel. Agreed longtime member Pat Fugit-Brady with a happy laugh: "We're simple people with simple needs."

If you're familiar with this stretch of Route 40, it might seem as if the chapel, which is situated about halfway between Washington and Scenery Hill at the country crossroads known as Glyde, popped up out of nowhere. But it was actually a long time in the making.

Thanks to its peaceful tree-shaded setting, travelers on this busy road often stop in the church's parking lot to pray or meditate. So about a year ago, recalled interim pastor the Rev. James Hilliard, members relocated a picnic table from a side parking lot to a concrete pad in front of the church. It proved to be a good move.

Every now and again someone would find a prayer request tucked between the weathered wooden slats; why they didn't blow away, the Rev. Hilliard mused, is anyone's guess. The next logical step, then, was to place a large mailbox on top of the table, and place inside a Bible and writing materials for prayer requests and other communications to the church. Different members also posted a series of "Burma-Shave" signs along the highway that encouraged people to stop at the church's "Drive In Devotions."

"Come to me you who are weary ... I will give you rest," read one side.

"Relying on God's strength and compassion brings Hope," read the other.

Not only did two or three people leave prayer requests each month, but they sometimes would return to tell a member their prayer had been answered, Chappel said. Occasionally, someone would even leave a little change as an offering.

This quiet form of picnic-table outreach might have continued indefinitely had four members who wish to remain anonymous not made a trip to Ohio Amish country last fall and happened upon one of these little churches. Learning it was built not from scratch but from a kit, a light bulb clicked on: why not expand on the whole picnic table-mail box idea with an actual building? The board agreed it was a good idea, and in December, members turned out to watch as the chapel was placed on its foundation under a row of towering sycamore trees.

While similar in appearance, the church and mini-chapel aren't carbon copies of one another. The folk Italianate church, which was built in 1867 and originally included separate entrances for women and men, lacks the chapel's pointed steeple and faux stained-glass windows. But no matter. It's still a place where many would feel comfortable listening to gospel music (there's a tape player on the table along with a battery-operated radio) or reading Scripture or composing a prayer request. The only distraction is the faint rush of cars speeding a few yards away on Route 40. Doors are always open

The fact the chapel is open 24/7 might strike some as chancy. But the tradition actually has deep roots in history, the Rev. Hilliard said. While most churches today keep their doors locked to ward off vandalism and theft, that wasn't the case when the National Road, also known as the National Pike, was built in the early 1800s, drawing thousands of travelers west over the Allegheny Mountains to settle the Ohio River Valley. Considered places of safety and asylum, church buildings at that time _ especially the sanctuaries _ were always open for prayer and meditation for the passer-by, or for anyone else who wanted to find God's presence.

According to a woman known only as Tammi, that need still exists today. "Glory to God for this tiny chapel and the very big meaning behind it," she wrote March 26 in a small notebook that sits on the desk _ one of more than a dozen entries posted since the chapel opened three months ago.

To keep encouraging two-way communication and perhaps even inspire those who visit to feel more free to come to church, members place all the requests for prayer on the church's prayer list, and then leave the list on the chapel table "so they can see it's been added," Chappel said.

And if that amounts to just one person a week or even a month? The congregation will still consider the chapel a success.

"That was one person in need," Fugit-Brady said.