This year as Thanksgiving approaches the Salvation Army bell ringer once again takes up a post at the door of my grocery store where he or she stands rain, wind, sun or snow. There are a series of them each year, and all of them smile at donors and non-donors alike as they faithfully ring their bell. I always try to have some small bills on hand so that I can place something in the red bucket each time I go.
However, my efforts pale in comparison to what I saw last week. My grocery store is near a low income apartment building which seems to house a great many older people. They come to the store, mostly on foot, and in a lot of cases decamp to the ABC store next door, before trudging home. I have noticed one woman over the years only because of her bizarre behavior and her clothing. Winter or summer she wears layers of tattered sweaters, droopy sweat pants, and wool socks stuffed into what look like slippers. As she slowly walks the isles she hums to herself and tonelessly chants the name of each item that goes into her cart. “Green beans, green beans, green beans.” “Peaches, peaches, peaches.”
I was leaving the store one day recently when I saw her approaching up the sidewalk in her usual attire: her canvas bag hanging from a torn sleeve, and her gray hair straggling out from beneath a worn knit hat. She held something awkwardly in one hand, walking as if carrying an egg on a spoon. She drew even with the Salvation Army ringer humming something under her breath. She produced a paper cup, liquid sloshing over the sides, and pushed it clumsily at the ringer saying in a gravelly voice only, “Here.” She then shuffled off into the store, the man’s thanks falling unnoticed at her retreating back.
I met the ringer’s eyes, and we both smiled at the dripping, battered cup that he held in his hand. He examined the stains on the side of the cup and the congealing skim of cream on the top and said with some reluctance, “I don’t think I want to drink it”, and then with a sudden joyous smile he placed it on a prominent ledge near his post saying, “But I shall always remember this.” He is not the only one.