Back in the mid-50's, when I was just 4 years old, my father was overseas serving with the military, so my mother and I lived with my grandparents in a house on a hill on the outskirts of downtown Fayetteville, N.C. My grandmother took care of me while my mother worked. I adored Grandmomie and went everywhere with her.
A trip downtown
She would walk downtown at least once a week for her hair appointment. Our usual trek also included a stop at the soda fountain for a Coca-Cola® and a hot dog. The next stop was Woolworth's®, where I could spend a dollar on a small toy.
It was always fun to walk and talk with Grandmomie, but the best time to go to town was at Christmas. Colored lights and greenery hung over the streets, and shop windows were filled with fake snow, lights, and wonderful toy displays. I couldn't wait to get to Woolworth's®.
Just outside the store, a lady stood there, ringing a bell. I was intrigued. I had not seen her before. She was dressed in black, with a black bonnet tied under her chin. In front of her was what looked like a pot on a stand. I was curious to know what was in it, so I took a peek.
At my size, I didn't have to lean too far over. I was in awe to see so many coins. I wanted to know why people were putting them in the pot.
What's 'needy'?
Grandmomie explained that the coins would help the needy, and I caught the seriousness of her tone. I didn't know what needy meant exactly, but I knew that whoever they were, they needed coins. I wanted to give some myself. So Grandmomie pulled out her black coin purse and gave me a few coins to put in the black kettle. I was thrilled to hear the jingle as they fell into the pot. I wanted to stay and see if others would do the same, but instead, we waved goodbye and went on our way.
From that point on, every time I heard a lady ringing a bell in town, I had to stop to put coins in her kettle. The ringing of the bell, which I could hear above the noise of the shoppers, always drew me. Grandmomie patiently let me put in a few coins each time.
The Lord's workers
I also knew these ladies at the kettles were special people; they were so pleasant. Grandmomie explained that they worked for the Lord. Here they were out in the crisp air, ringing their bells, waiting patiently. I wanted to stay and ring the bell too. Most of all, I wanted to see the pot filled with coins.
That moment of discovery about others in need is a very special memory. To many people, spending an afternoon ringing a bell, collecting donations, might seem like a small thing. But for that small girl, seeing such devotion marked the beginning of a desire to serve the Lord through giving. Those ladies at the kettles were, for me, example and inspiration!
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