Dec 23, 2014 4 min read

I can’t even begin to count the number of times I walked past a Salvation Army volunteer ringing a bell while standing sentry over a famed red kettle, usually on the outside of a large grocery store.

The little bell, it was tolling as I walked through the parking lot of Giant Eagle in South Strabane. The sound of the bells are unmistakably Salvation Army. You hear them and know soon you will see someone standing next to a kettle, wearing the Salvation Army apron, and moving an arm up and down, up and down, all the while creating that special jingling that is calling people to stop and check their pockets for change.

On this trip to the supermarket, I did everything I could to avoid looking the bell ringer in the eye because I knew I wasn’t going to drop any money into the kettle, and those walking ahead of me on their way into the store and those who exited with their buggies full of food avoided eye contact, as well.

No one stopped, but the bell ringer, a man his 50s or 60s, didn’t seem to mind. He kept smiling, perhaps to keep his lips from freezing. As I walked through the automatic door, a blast of warm store air rushed out and I saw the bell ringer make a slight move forward. He returned to his post, ringing away and wishing someone a Merry Christmas after some folded paper money was jammed into the bucket.

As I left the store, I nodded and smiled at the bell ringer. I was tempted to reach into my pocket, but I knew he wouldn’t accept a debit card.

Leaving the parking lot of Giant Eagle, the sound of the ringing bell faded and I didn’t hear it again until, well, until I signed up to ring the bell for one hour at the Giant Eagle on Sugar Run Road in Waynesburg. It was a service project the Rotary Club of Waynesburg has done for years. My hour was at the end of my work day Dec. 12. It was chilly, especially when the sun went down (yes, there was sun that day). I had no gloves and no hat, but my coat was adequate. I arrived at Giant Eagle and saw where I needed to be.

The woman I was replacing looked frozen when I got over to the kettle. She explained she was there for two hours because her replacement did not show up. She handed me the bell, gave me an apron and told me I should have gloves and a hat.

“My feet are nearly frozen,” she said as she was making her way to her car.

I asked, “How was business?” She said, “I had a few.”

I began ringing and ringing and ringing. A mother and child dropped some change into the kettle. The woman said, “You look so cold.” It was the way she said it. I began to feel warmer.

As the hour wore on, people stopped and made contributions, and I began to feel embarrassed and ashamed. One man stopped at a nearby mailbox to drop off a letter and then walked over and stuffed a folded $10 bill into the kettle.

I said thank you and wished him a Merry Christmas. He said Merry Christmas, too. And I knew he meant it.

Those who came and went that night didn’t have to stop at all. But many did. Some emptied pockets of change; others reached for wallets and purses.

I never felt cold that night. There was an unexplainable warmth generated by the unselfish goodwill of shoppers at this particular Giant Eagle.

And tonight, on this Christmas Eve, if you hear a bell ring, it won’t be an angel getting his or her wings. It could be a doctor, a lawyer or a journalist, huddling for warmth and ringing a bell to remind us all what Christmas is really about.

Jon Stevens, Greene County bureau chief, can be reached at jstevens@observer-reporter.com.