COLUMN: Ringing the bell is a life lesson for a little one

Dear Bennett:

Thank you for getting out of the warm car to ring a tiny bell with me on a cold afternoon.

We had the best time making memories. Your Gris hopes you will look back on this December day with warmth. I will always remember getting to share it with you.

Few things put me in the Christmas spirit more than wearing a red apron and standing next to a red kettle. I get far more out of it than I put in it.

You are 5 years old and my youngest grandson. You are the same age your daddy was the first time I volunteered to ring the bell for the Salvation Army. I’ve done it many times since then.

As I tied an apron around your waist, I explained to you why I signed up to work a four-hour shift at the Kroger on Forsyth Road. 

We are doing this to help others, I said. Even though we both got cold, tired and hungry, there are people in the world who are always cold, tired and hungry. 

For us, those are not permanent conditions. For them, it’s a way of life. The Salvation Army puts it this way: “Need knows no season.’’

You nodded when I asked if you understood. And even if you might not fully get it now, one day you will. Today was a good start. 

I knew I only had you by my side for about 45 minutes before your GG whisked you off to rehearsal at the Macon Little Theatre. On Friday night, you will make your stage debut in “The Lion King.’’

You get to play a hyena. That was good casting. You are a happy child. You are always laughing. 

You are going to make some people in the audience laugh, too. And melt a few hearts. GG and I will be sitting on Row D, Seats 1 and 2. Just look beyond the footlights for all the popped buttons. We are so proud of you.

But I’ll tell you, little guy, I won’t be half as proud of you on  Friday night as I was today. You wrapped your fingers around that wooden handle, rang the bell and wished everyone who walked through those automatic doors a “Merry Christmas.’’

You were adorable. Before you arrived at 3 p.m., I had plenty of traffic at that iconic red kettle. Folks were coming up and stuffing in George Washingtons and Abe Lincolns. They were slipping quarters, dimes and nickels into the slot.

When you showed up, my “business” quadrupled.

You can never go wrong with cute kids.

You watched as I visited with old friends and made some new ones. The iconic red kettle is a melting pot from all walks of life. Young. Old. Black. White. Rich. Poor. Paper. Plastic. Coke. Pepsi. 

Participating in a charitable cause can be an interesting study in human nature. People will give from the heart, especially at Christmas. 

You were not trying to sell them cookies or a raffle ticket. You didn’t have to twist their arm or chase them down in the parking lot.

You might have noticed some folks hurry past and avoid eye contact. I have had them step around me like I was  a puddle on the sidewalk. 

Take heart, though. I have watched others reach deep in their pockets as if they were giving their last quarters, nickels and dimes. And maybe they were. 

You were so darn cute. My donations went into a tailspin the minute you left. 

As the sun started to slip away on these shortest of days, my shift was almost over. My feet were hurting. My batteries were running low. I was ready to go ho-ho-home. 

But my heart was full. 

Thank you again, little buddy. I look forward to ringing the bell with you next Christmas.

Love, Gris