It’s been fifty years since a teenage girl accepted a position as the pianist for The Salvation Army in Tonawanda, New York. By the following December, I was learning the ropes of bell-ringing at the Army kettle outside Twin Fair in the throes of a Western New York winter. And the rest, they say, is history – or, in this case, her-story.
Christmas in The Salvation Army combines a focused fund-raising emphasis, a response to community need through the distribution of thousands of gifts to children and their families, and the desire to provide meaningful worship experiences as well as ministry opportunities to volunteers who come alongside in such generous ways during the season. It is an exhausting work to facilitate, yet is a beautiful thing to witness, especially when you’re no longer in charge of the entire mission. Retirement is good!
Others have similar experiences of long hours of seasonal work.The big box stores are open now with extended hours, and customers who think nothing of leaving a trail of unwanted items in their wake. Small businesses depend on holiday sales to carry them through the lean winter months, and many proprieters whisper a prayer that the next customer will put them over their goal for the day. Sellers of Christmas trees work long, frigid hours in hopes they estimated the right number of trees for the season, knowing their product will have no value after December 24.
While those in retail will close for Christmas day and then will be back at it for Boxing Day sales and the dreaded returns line, The Salvation Army worker and the Christmas tree seller will be able to “close the book” on Christmas 2019 by the 24th, packing away the kettles and bells for the next season, and abandoning the remaining trees to the chipper.
One night, many years ago, one of those abandoned trees found renewed life. The story goes something like this. Friends of ours had been serving those who depended on the Salvation Army’s help in Manhattan, a herculean task, and by Christmas Eve, they still hadn’t gotten their own family tree. Finally turning out the lights and locking the doors, Bill headed towards the Christmas tree stand set up in a corner of his regular parking lot. For weeks, the lot attendants did double duty, collecting parking fees and selling Christmas trees as they warmed their hands over the fire burning in the rusty barrel. On this dark evening, the glittering lights were dimmed, and only a handful of trees remained, most of the Charlie Brown variety. “I’ll take that one,” Bill said, pointing to the best-looking one of the rejects. Handing over his money, with a tip for the chilled seller, he headed home, relieved to have found a tree.
Returning to the City after the holidays, Bill chatted with the parking lot owner. “I’m so glad you kept the stand open late on Christmas Eve. If you hadn’t, I’d still be in trouble with my wife.” The owner looked surprised. “We closed at 3 p.m. on Christmas Eve,” he said. Apparently one of the street people who frequented that neighborhood was staying warm over the fire, and became the recipient of our friend’s largess. Even without knowing it, Bill had blessed another.
Through my Salvation Army work over the last fifty years, I have watched with awe as people have blessed other people in these late December days, sometimes without even knowing it. A quarter – or a twenty – in the kettle, a gift in the Toys for Tots bin, a hand-knitted scarf, the packing of a food basket, a kind word, a welcome embrace, a story heard, a burden lifted: these blessings have been extended from churches and union halls, school corridors and cavernous warehouses, and in both prosperous and struggling communities, neighborhoods and homes.
I love this image from Amit Ray: “The ripples of the kind heart are the highest blessings of the universe.” This Christmas, I’m picturing those ripples forming powerful waves of compassion across a dry and weary land, not just for a few days in December, but as we choose daily to bless another. A blessed Christmas to you.
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