T'is the season
Every year I ring the bell for Salvation Army. Yes, I know. It annoys some people as they are trying to get into the store. I used to be one of those people. But, as in the Christmas stories, my eyes were opened to the joys of charity. Other people's charity. I'd say that about every third person drops some money into the kettle, which is a pretty good average if you think about it.
A couple years ago, I was ringing during the night shift at Barnes & Noble at Friendly Shopping Center. It was cold, business was brisk and people were hurrying in and out. I smile at everyone who makes eye contact and wish most of them a Merry Christmas, but avoid watching them if they put money in the kettle. The amount they put in should be private, I figure.
Toward the end of the evening, a white Lincoln Continental -- the older, boxier, more elegant model -- cruised up to the curb. A man got out of the back seat and approached the kettle. It had always impressed me when drivers would see the kettle and make a special stop. So, I wished him a season's greetings and looked the other way, giving him a modicum of privacy.
Next thing I know, he had unlatched the kettle and was halfway back to the waiting car. "Hey, what are you doing?" I asked and stepped to follow him. I know it sounds like a dumb question now, but it never occurred to the naive me that someone would try to steal the money. He replied that he was with the Salvation Army and was picking up the kettle a little early. Even I recognized that as BS. But by the time I got to the car, he had hopped in, closed the door and was on his way.
I wrote the license number on my hand and called the Salvation Army contact, who called the police. An officer interviewed me the next day, and Isaid I could identify the guy, but I never heard what happened.
I didn't feel violated or angry or scared or anything that robbery victims say. Mostly, I felt foolish. Foolish that I let it happen and foolish that I didn't have my wits about me to stop him. I wrote an extra large check to the Salvation Army to try to cover the donations he took.
But it didn't stop me from ringing. I'll be the guy in the Santa hat at the Wal-Mart on Cone on Wednesday.