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Sometimes a simple job doesn't turn out as planned....
Cold Duty
You see them every year around this time, ringing their bells at the entrances to shopping malls, big-box stores, and other public places. They stand beside tripods from which are suspended little red kettles with slots on the top. They’re the Salvation Army bell ringers, soliciting donations from Christmas shoppers.
Who makes up this seasonal army of bell ringers? Essentially anybody the local Salvation Army chapter can get to fill in. In our town the man responsible for organizing the bell ringing every year belongs to the local Rotary Club. He passes around a sign-up sheet with the instructions “Volunteer or be volunteered.” Sooner or later practically everybody signs up. A very few agree to fill more than one time slot.
It’s a worthwhile project. An hour of ringing in front of the local Wal-Mart collects an average of over fifty dollars (The wheelchair-bound Rotary member who rings the bell with his young grandson on his lap reportedly does quite a bit better than average….). The local Salvation Army gets by far most of its funding for the coming year from the bell campaign. Every cent of it goes to aid—our all-volunteer chapter has no overhead expenses. Mostly they distribute the funds in the form of assistance to people who can’t pay their utility bills. They also occasionally handle transients, though we don’t get all that many of those here.
December weather has always been variable in our region, more so than ever in this era of climate change. You really don’t know what you’ll face when you sign on a couple of weeks before the date. Last year the weather was fairly mild and pleasant. This year was another story. After days of insanely unseasonable highs in the 70s, the temperature that Saturday plunged to an unseasonably low high of 35. That won’t seem very low to many people. But when you’re accustomed to December highs in the forties, and were sweltering in 70s weather only days earlier, neither your constitution nor your winter wardrobe will likely be prepared. Add a gloomy all-day overcast and gusts of wind howling across the huge Wal-Mart parking lot, and you’ve got a recipe for discomfort.
It’s only an hour, though—anybody can stand a little discomfort for an hour in a good cause. It’s not as though there is anything complicated or difficult about the work. You stand (or sit, in the folding chair provided) beside the kettle, ring the bell, smile at everybody who comes by, and exchange greetings with anybody who acknowledges your presence. You keep an eye on the kettle and say “Thank You” or “Merry Christmas” to anybody who makes a contribution.
When not otherwise occupied you can people-watch. You see senior citizens hobbling along as best they can…young couples absorbed in each other…mothers trying to corral their children. A boy entrusted with carrying a younger sibling races across the frigid parking lot with the baby while the grandmother watching all of them rolls her eyes. A mother with a small child in a shopping cart keeps putting up the child’s hood, only to have her fold it back down. Some parents give their children money to put in the kettle. I saw one of these lessons in giving go awry when a little boy tried to keep part of the money he had been given to put in.
A lot of people passing by made observations about the weather. Several commented that I must have drawn the short straw to pull such a cold shift. Some wondered whether I was cold. I didn’t try to deny it. One jovial old man pointed out that we bell ringers were supposed to wear red Santa caps. “Too cold for that,” I told him. On his way back out he pinched my arm and said “So long, Santa!” I wished him a merry Christmas.
You can’t stand for long outside a small-town Wal-Mart without seeing somebody you know. I exchanged hellos with the Mayor, one of his secretaries, our pastor’s wife, and a former employee of the library. The Mayor advised me not to freeze. I wasn’t planning on it. But things don’t always turn out as planned….
The cold was getting harder to ignore. I tried to think about warm things, such as tropical beaches, the deserts of the southwest, the Chicago fire, Mount Vesuvius. Now and then a stray thought about Scott’s doomed Antarctic expedition or Hans Brinker skating across the frozen canals of old Holland would cross my mind. I’d try to get my mind back on warmer subjects.
People came into the store, took care of their business, and emerged later. People after them did the same thing. I’d known that this hour of standing out in the cold and wind was probably going to feel like a long one. Surely an hour couldn’t be THIS long! I had relieved the man in charge himself at the beginning of my shift. He had told me that he had been filling in when somebody had called him about not being relieved on time. It looked like I had been “stood up” as well.
The sky looked darker and gloomier. I was starting to shiver uncontrollably. My legs were getting sore from the shivering, and from my efforts to keep it from becoming too obvious. My extremities had gotten painfully cold. I was starting to get hypothermic.
Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer. During a lull in foot traffic I retreated into the store’s big entrance vestibule to try to warm up. While there I removed my glove and checked my watch. It was a quarter to four. I had been standing outside for an hour and forty-five minutes!
After warming up I stepped back out. At least I only had another fifteen minutes before the person scheduled to show up at four arrived. Of course it would feel like an awfully long fifteen minutes. Indeed, after a while I began to realize that fifteen minutes surely couldn’t be THAT long….
There had been two no-shows in a row. My one-hour shift of bell ringing was turning into a three-hour shift instead. At least I knew that at five the bell ringing was scheduled to cease. Surely the organizer who was supposed to collect the kettle wouldn’t fail to arrive on time!
For the last hour I alternated between brief spells outside and trips inside to get warm. During one of these an elderly woman approached me with two scarves and offered to buy me my choice to help me keep warm. It was a sweet gesture. But I was within half an hour of finishing up, and decided I could make it without that.
The organizer came to pick up the kettle a few minutes before five. She was absolutely shocked to learn that I had been standing there since just before two. She was a little afraid to inform the man in charge of scheduling. He’s an ex-military man, and would be furious at learning about all the no-shows.
I helped her load the kettle, tripod, and other paraphernalia into her vehicle. Then I went inside and spent a few minutes warming up before attempting the frigid walk across the now-dark parking lot. We were starting to get a light freezing rain. I just wanted to run home and warm up. But I had a bit of shopping of my own to do at other stores. I reluctantly decided that it really could not wait.
Next year I plan to do two things. First, if the weather looks chilly I will seriously consider wearing my warmest motorcycle gear. It would look rather funny and draw stares, but anything to keep warm. Second, I plan to find out who is scheduled to cover the shift after mine, call that person and a local attorney, and get something in writing.
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The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls who, when he found an especially costly one, sold everything he had to buy it.
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