“Can I give you my charge card?” A gal asked me that, in jest, while I worked as a fill-in for Ken Quast, an Arizona Salvation Army bell ringer who was sick. I laughed of course, and thought about using that same line sometime myself. Another gal walked by and said, “I gave at the office.” By then I was waiting for someone to say, “Do you accept coupons?”
It was Dec. 3, and my first two-hour stint as a bell ringer. I was parked outside the entrance of Safeway in Green Valley. People were passing in and out of the entrance like it was Grand Central Station. It was 80 degrees and I was wearing a Santa hat and dodging the afternoon sun.
A young worker, named Jesse, passed by me numerous times, retrieving carts that were left somewhere in the parking lot. On one trip, Jesse asked me for my bell and started flipping it like some cowboy flipping his gun. He suggested that I try it, and I did. The bell landed on the sidewalk.
My first connection with bell ringers, this season, took place two days earlier when I came upon a mother and daughter who were dressed in Santa gear and ringing that little bell. I put some money in the little red bank and the girl, named, Harper, smiled and gave me a Tootsie Roll. I was immediately smitten.
But now it was my first-ever turn at bell ringing, and no one was there to tutor me, so I stood near the red bucket, rang the little bell, and smiled, even though my mask hid the smile. And, it didn’t take long before my heart did a double-take. A senior woman walked up to me with a zip-lock plastic bag that contained several pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, and even a silver dollar. She unzipped the bag and dumped her loot into the top of the red piggy bank. “I found these coins all last year and collected them for the Salvation Army,” she said. I was smitten once again.
There were so many things that happened during my two-hour shift that touched my heart. One senior man walked by with a gallon of milk in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. He stopped, some 10 feet away, and placed the milk and groceries on the sidewalk. He reached into his wallet, took out some money and placed it into the slot of the rapidly filling bank.
I was ringing my little bell when a lady walked by and said, “I’ll be back.” I had forgotten about her until a half hour later when she did come back and stuffed $20 into the little slot. Shortly after that, a man walked by and said, “The check’s in the mail.”
Another lady walked by and said, “I only have a dollar,” and stuffed in into the slot.
“You’re a dollar closer to heaven, ma’am.”
Another lady looked at me and said, “I’ll bring some money next time.”
“Sounds good, ma’am.”
At one point, a senior man approached me and said, “I do this also and I want to make a suggestion. Take your sunglasses off so people can see your eyes. When you make eye contact with them, they are more apt to give you something.”
“Thanks for the advice, sir.”
I wondered why bell ringers had only a two-hour shift, and I would soon find out. I’m a hiker and have little trouble hiking for two hours without stopping. But standing in one place and ringing a bell for two hours was grueling. I mixed things up by rocking from one foot to the other, pacing a little, and sitting in a folding chair. My shift started at 2 p.m. and I accidentally looked at my watch once. 2:10? Lordy!
The real reward for bell-ringing comes with all the moments of goodness a bell ringer witnesses. In this time of COVID-19, we all need to find ways to be uplifted. The people I witnessed in one two-hour session said it all for me. For example, I watched a small elderly woman walking toward me, slowly, gingerly, and using a cane. She was about 20 feet away from me when she stopped. She reached into her purse, slowly retrieved money from her wallet, and continued her journey toward the little red bank with a message from her heart. I wanted to hug her. “God bless you, ma’am.”
I was privileged to watch an elderly couple slowly walking into the store, holding hands. Shortly afterward, I heard the voice of another elderly woman who was sitting in a nearby car. She rolled down her window and beckoned me to come. When I got to her car, she reached out and gave me some money for that little red bank. “Thank you ma’am. Merry Christmas.”
I felt humbled, at one point, when people were literally standing in line for their turn to put money in the little bank.
After I finished my shift and started walking into the grocery store with my little red bank, a guy from Colorado yelled, “Hold on, I’m in line to get some money.” He stood in line, got his money and contributed.
All these little exchanges are the reasons why that bell-ringing episode will be one of my memorable Christmas moments this year. That’s why I continued ringing my bell, even when no one was around.
The Salvation Army has existed since 1865 and now services 131 countries. It supports the homeless, veterans, the aging, domestic abuse victims, disaster relief victims, and anyone else in need. Heaven has to be within its reach.
Nearly 54,000 Christmas lights adorn the home of Steve and Donna McKinnis on Tucson's far east side near East Old Spanish Trail and South Houghton Road.
The yard display is open to the public at 11505 E. Calle Javelina nightly from 5:20 to 11 until New Year's Day. Video by Jesse Tellez/Arizona Daily Star.
