Change in Direction

One of the things I really love about writing this blog is that it forces me to think once in a while.

Last night, I ran to the grocery store to get stuff for chicken fajitas. (which came out awesome, by the way) I pulled up in front of Cub Foods and what I saw made my heart sink a little bit. Really? Already? A little early, don'tcha think? But yes, there she was... the Salvation Army bell-ringer. Red kettle at her side, she stood there ringing her bell, trying to get people to throw some change in the bucket. It's a brilliant campaign, "help the poor or we'll make you feel GUILTY!" Shame on you for not throwing some change in that bucket! I immediately thought I had the subject for today's entry locked up, a full-on rant about the whole deal.

Then I woke up this morning and started thinking about what I wanted to write. Sometimes, a funny thing happens when you start thinking instead of acting on impulse... you remember  things. Things that change your perspective. Things that remind you of the person you used to be before you became so cynical.

Sherman, set the Wayback machine for sometime in the early 1980's - we're going to Mundelein Illinois.

The first job I ever had was at an Aldi store. For those not familiar with Aldi, it's a chain of grocery stores that sell off-brand or store-brand food at huge discounts. To be fair, a lot of it is from big-names, but it's their "discount" brand level stuff. Anyway, I was the... I forgot what they called the position, I'll call it "grunt." I pushed carts, I swept, I mopped, I took care of trash and cardboard, I cleaned bathrooms, etc. etc. etc. Not a glamor job, to be sure.

That winter was a tough one. It was cold, there were a few big snowstorms that just kept us buried under a thick blanket of the white stuff. There, in front of the Service Merchandise showroom store next-door was the Salvation Army bell-ringer. I remember seeing him getting dropped off and/or picked up every day by the same beat-up van. He was a middle-aged black man, I think he was from Waukegan. I couldn't tell you his name, but I knew he wasn't thrilled about having to stand out in the cold and the snow for hours on end. The store he was in front of was barely tolerant of him being there, they wouldn't even let him come inside the entryway to warm up, unless it was below zero.

I'd see him almost every day and I made it a point to always have some change in my pocket to throw in his bucket. I'd hang out and talk with him for a little while and then head in to work. As the days went on and the nights got longer and colder, I'd bring him a little thermos of soup so he could have something hot to keep him from freezing out there. Then, one night, he was gone. I don't know how they do it, maybe his time was up, maybe they moved him to another store, but I never saw him again. I felt like I had lost a friend. I have no idea what happened to him, but I hope he is well.

I haven't thought about him in years... and that thought reminded those are real people out there ringing those bells. They all have their own stories and histories that brought them to that store, standing in the cold, ringing that bell for your pocket change. I don't know about you, but I almost never carry cash anymore. I think I'll start making sure I have some change in my pocket again.