I’ve found the most enjoyment
I get from my money, though, is by spending it on someone who is truly
grateful. I’m a big fan – especially
around the holidays – of loosening the coinpurse. No, that is not a metaphor for freeballing. I had several holidays growing up where
either the food wasn’t there, the gifts, or both. I was never disappointed by the lack of gifts
– I’ve always found holiday gift-giving as being a vehicle for spending time
with the family. Honestly, I could do
less with more ‘things’ and more with people.
But, I digress from this rant.
Something I’ve done with my
age is to correct that for others. I
won’t say this insight was brought about from my wisdom or maturity, because I
don’t think either is required to know how to bring a smile to somebody’s day. Maybe a youthful optimism in humans combined
with my adult income. No, that’s not a
joke. While I dislike the more adult
version of humans – they’ve lost the ability to view life with that singular
joy of having seen something for the very first time – I find the fire of the
smaller ones absolutely worth the effort to feed and grow.
It’s not that hard,
really. A few extra bucks at the grocery
store nets a few tins of food that someone out there can’t buy for their
family. A ten dollar toy is worth a hundred
dollars to a child that has none. Hell, here’s
a REAL easy one – you know how grocery stores offer those free turkeys for
Thanksgiving and Christmas? But you
never really use it because you’ll be chowing with friends and family? Why not donate the bird to your local food
pantry?
One of our holidays in
Hammondsport – maybe it was Christmas; could have been Thanksgiving. It was cold, I sure as hell remember
that. It was another winter when ends
didn’t always meet reliably, leaving more than a few days each month without
hot water for showers. I tell ya, it’s a
bloody bitch to wake up cold, take a cold shower, then walk a half a mile to
school in the – you guessed it – cold.
For all the whippersnappers out there: this was not up a hill both ways, nor did I live in the sticks. Anyway, the great day was drawing nigh, and I
will always remember the look on my mother’s face when she brought home that
basket from the food pantry. There was
stuffing, and tinned cranberries, some green beans – so much for the holiday,
and even beyond. All we needed was some
meat, which wouldn’t be too hard (I recall chicken being used and it being
FANTASTIC).
The look on her face wasn’t pride nor shame. It wasn’t boastfulness or a general
gratefulness. It was relief. The kind of soul-rending relief that peace of
mind and the full stomach of a child can bring. It was one less holiday worry,
now turned into one more holiday miracle.
I don’t remember that many holiday meals with my
mother. I think the divorce took its
toll there with so many spent visiting my father and his family. That, or the offerings were not always of a
Dickensian affair, what with beggar-sized birds and the like. But, I will always remember that year: the year several people
contributed just a little bit to give our family so much.
So, I may be off my nutter.
Well, fuck you very much: it’s my nutter to be on or off of. However, there are those that have no nutter
to speak of, and for them, I’ll keep clearing my pantry every few months and
heading down to the local food pantry. It’s
in a church. It does not burst into
flames when I cross the threshold (provided I’m in an out quickly enough). I’ll grab two of a toy when shopping, just to
donate one – doesn’t have to be big or anything. I’ll give a dollar to feed hungry children,
or whatever the most local charity that collects at the grocery store checkout
is. Ultimately, it’s just a few dollars
that someone out there can use so
much more and so much better than I
can.
Besides, if it gives these kids at least one great memory
like it did for me, it’s worth a million dollars in my book.
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