(Ed. note: This column, a favorite of Gary Xavier and many of his readers, was originally published in the Finger Lakes Times on Dec. 14, 2003. It was reprinted in the Times on Dec 24, 2013, and at the request of the author, is repeated here once again.)
It was a bitter winter’s day in Golden, Colorado. Not too often can I say that, being from New York, where winter drags on forever and the snow when it comes never melts but just gets dirty. But this day, despite the Colorado sunshine, was bitter cold, with the wind coming down off the high peaks ready to suck the heat out of anything it could.
And yet he stood there, ringing his bell; his cheeks red from the icy air, as red as the kettle that held the donations.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, “Merry Christmas.” He was guarding the door to the local Safeway grocery store, the Colorado equivalent of Tops or Wegmans, and smiled a weary greeting to all who passed by.
“Merry Christmas,” and his smile was a little ragged at the edges, his brown and broken teeth visible beneath the stubble of a beard. As Linda stopped pushing her cart full of grocery bags and placed a couple of folded bills into the Salvation Army basket he said, “Thank you, and Merry Christmas.” That’s all it took, and as she is prone to do, Linda engaged him in conversation …
• • •
It’s a family legend, or perhaps not quite a legend, but at least a family joke, that inside of three minutes of conversation Linda can find out your entire life’s story, including your blood type. Every now and then, just to prove to me that she does in fact listen to what I say, she’ll come away from meeting a stranger and tell me, “Oh, by the way, it’s A positive.”
I think it’s her background. The nursing profession tends to do that to you, I guess, leading you to delve into people’s intimate thoughts, often during their darkest moments, and leave them feeling good that they shared the information. I have seen her do this many times, and as she leaves the person she just met, they act as if they have known her for years ...
• • •
His name was Charles, and he was from a men’s homeless shelter in Denver. Originally from Kentucky, he had traveled to Denver to work, but then had been laid off. His plight of being one of the working poor had gone from bad to worse, as he now struggled just to exist. He was ringing the bell because he was asked to, he said, but he would do it even if no one asked.
“It’s better than sitting inside all day,” he grinned, “but it really is cold.”
Linda took her groceries to the car and started to leave. The bright Colorado sun had warmed the car, and from inside it was a perfect winter’s day. It’s amazing how that works, for at that altitude, the air temperature can be below freezing and yet you feel warm enough to doff your coat as long as the sun shines and the wind doesn’t blow too hard. But on this day, that harsh western wind left no doubt that this was winter on the Front Range of the Rockies.
She stopped the car in front of the store and got out, holding in her hand a bill.
“Merry Christmas,” she smiled, and handed it to Charles.
“But you already gave”, he said, looking now at the ten dollar bill she had handed him.
“I know,” Linda replied, “but this is for you, not for the kettle.”
“I can’t take it,” Charles said as he shook his head, “all the money has to go in the basket.”
“Not this one, this is for your lunch. You must get a break soon, don’t you?” she questioned.
“Yes,” he said, “and it would sure be good to get a hot cup of coffee.”
“Merry Christmas” they each said, as Linda got back in the car and drove slowly away.
It was Linda’s ritual to stop at “Buddy’s Chicken House” whenever she went to Safeway. It was really a Burger King restaurant, where Linda always bought a small box of chicken tenders for Buddy, her golden retriever.
“Buddy’s buying treats,” she would say to whatever dogs were along for the ride. And then, with a golden head hanging out the rear window, they’d stop at the drive-through.
This day, however, she was all alone, and forgot the chicken until she was headed home. So she dutifully turned around and headed back into town, pulling into the Safeway plaza and heading for the Burger King drive-thru at the end of the lot.
She stopped and ordered, then started to drive around the tight little corner to pick up Buddy’s chicken. Something inside caught her eye, and she looked up just in time to see Charles frantically waving from inside the restaurant. He came to the window, and proudly held up his extra large coffee in one hand and a huge cheeseburger in the other. His smile said it all.
Linda says it was the best Christmas present she ever got.
Ovid native Gary B. Xavier has written over 200 “Life Lines” columns since his first one was published in the Finger Lakes Times in 2002, several of which have been in the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” book series. He can be reached at gary_xavier@yahoo.com or P.O. Box 365, Ovid, NY 14521.
login
who are we?
contact us
qosheapp
Toi Staff
Gideon Levy
Belen Fernandez
Andrew Mitrovica
Mort Laitner
Rami G Khouri
Ali Fathollah-Nejad
Nikkei Editorial
visit website
