Impressions while ringing bells for Salvation Army

I just thought I'd send this out without any editorializing at all. It is sort of a slice of the Christmas scene that we all see.

So many different kinds of people. So interesting to watch. So many who have bad legs and have trouble walking. I asked one man who had legs that seemed to splay out all over the place and had a cane if the cold weather made them feel worse, and he replies with a smile that he can’t even feel one of them which I took to mean he had a wooden leg. He forked out $5 to put in the kettle.

The bus stopped in front of the door. He left it running and the door open while he came in the store to use the bathroom. The desire to take the bus and take off was overpowering and when he came out I told him I almost took your bus and took off, he said cheerfully Well, here you go and I’ll ring the bell for you.

Mothers with new babies all covered up against the cold. Little children, many with their grandparents, toddlers. One grandfather wasn’t so nice. You could tell he wasn’t too happy taking care of his grandchild. The child did not want to let go of his hand when they went through the door and he was very irritated with him. The child wanted his grandma on one side and his granddad on the other.

The people who quickly walk by and put in a dime or a quarter are few. Most give a dollar or a lot of change. Some walk by so guiltily not giving. I figure they gave to another charity or maybe sent a big check to the Army and feel no bad vibes for them.

I never realized there are so many people with bad legs, crooked backs, and yet they are trying to shop for their loved ones. I even had a woman in a wheelchair with a beautiful seeing eye dog. It was a golden retriever. I admired the dog and asked if it was permissible to pet it knowing that sometimes you are not supposed to. She said the dog was working now and therefore I should not.

Big burly men with wild hair, sometimes long, would always stop and give some bucks and two very poorly dressed men each gave a dollar or two. One guy happened to come in when a whole bunch of ladies and such were coming and he stayed at the door and opened it and held it for all of them! Such a gentleman. Not many do that anymore these days.

The old ladies on pensions would put in a quarter or two. The young women would give a host of change out of their purses which amount to two or three dollars. So many surprised me by making such an effort. Their arms were filled with packages and they would either put them down and get the money out of their tight jeans or fish it out with great difficulty still holding on to their packages.

There was the little old lady from Denmark, WI who was Danish and stood and talked with me for a while, my being a fellow Scandihoovian. She said she was probably the last of the old Danish settlers in that town.

The people would sometimes come in droves and stand around waiting for their turn to put money in. The men would peel off a dollar. Some came prepared. A foreign lady and her husband, I think they must have been the Russian immigrants they have been talking about, made a great contribution and wished me a very Merry Christmas—so happy they were it seemed to me to make the contribution.

I wish I had had a pad and pencil as they came in so I could remember all of the different people who came in. I get such a kick out of the older men who treat me as if I were a young lady. It makes me feel warm all over.