If You Ask Me / By Martha Knight

Sometimes the various Christmas appeals make me grouchy and Grinchy.

Angel trees and the children and families they represent—don’t those community members have needs other times of years? Or is it only now that we feel concern?

ELF appeals, encouraging Bradford area people to break into a rash of generosity for the Less Fortunate—just for now. The itch is soon scratched. The sudden impulse to give strikes this time of year. The next 11 months or so, those Less Fortunate had better just suck it up.

We can scare up some extra goodies to put in baskets. They will like quite festive, displayed on the church altar. Then a few people will take them to a delivery point or will take them to the addresses they have been supplied. The givers don’t know any poor people personally, perhaps. It’s more comfortable that way.

And yet—there is something about the season that puts us in touch with some of the most cherished memories we have. We remember good times, and also some sad times that help us relate to the special feelings of distress people experience when their children are left out of Christmas.

So, okay, maybe it’s a good thing.

A wonderful memory I have involves a Christmas time when I had a house full of people who were in shelter here, having left home to escape from an abusive husband and father. There was very little for their Christmas. The teen girls handled the situation well, understanding that there were more important issues. The younger children were feeling uprooted and confused. We hung their stockings, but didn’t know what we would put in them.

Then I got a check from a local family I knew slightly. The note said they and another family (moms and dads and youngsters),  liked to help some little-known cause, each Christmas. They had decided the “safe house” operation here really needed help that year. This was before there was any county or public funding for victims of domestic violence, in this area. Naturally I kept a low profile, with few but the police and ministerium knowing my home was a temporary refuge while arrangements were made to find long-term housing and support for persons in flight.

I think the amount was $50, but it was like 5,000 pennies from heaven. We were able to brighten things considerably for everyone, because of thoughtfulness and kindness, brought into special focus by Christmas.

Sometimes we need a hook to hang our best intentions on. Christmas provides that.

Tonight I talked with a dear friend who lives some distance away. I knew their daughter and son-in-law had been going through a rough patch, so I asked after them.

“He still isn’t able to work,” my friend said. The son-in-law has had back surgery but still has injuries. Daughter has been the sole breadwinner for a while, on a social worker salary . The insurance coverage on her family has been dropped by her employer; they are scrambling to get coverage.

One of the children is on crutches and being treated for some disorder that affects her knee. The family nearly lost their home, but my friend and her hubby borrowed the whole equity of their home to prevent that. There is nothing more they can give. My friend’s voice broke as she added that their son and daughter just can’t buy the kids anything for Christmas, and the grandparents are barely able to help them pay a bill or two.

The girl with the knee problem was doing well on the sax, in a musical family, and was tapped for honors band or some such. But the family can no longer rent an instrument for her. She couldn’t practice or be in the holiday concerts.

Some folks from church brought them some firewood. Then someone came to the door and asked, “Is there anything you need? Anything we can do to help?”

Almost as a joke, the harried woman of the house said, “You wouldn’t happen to have a saxophone you’re not using, would you!”

The caller said, “Not exactly. But we’ll get back to you.”

They had seen an ad placed by a professional musician who was up in years and decided to hang it up. He was offering his fine instrument for sale. The minimum bid was reasonable for an instrument of that quality, but not chump change either.

The would-be helpers called the old gentleman and explained about the talented young musician and her plight, and the struggling family. “It’s hers. She has to get back to practice! Wind players can’t neglect their embouchures!” He insisted that they come and get the sax and deliver it.

I think a solution to the insurance problem is on the way. And there are some distinct possibilities of attention from a secret Santa.

I have known of a Mr. and Mrs. Claus pair who put in quite a lot of time making events more fun locally. They seem to enjoy it, but they must go to quite a lot of bother and even expense to do that. A few days ago I heard of another area couple who also impersonate the Clauses. Nice to know that about them.

The Christmas spirit has been playing hob with people I was trying hard to be mad at. After all, one of them had said something really mean to me in a public meeting, Another had barked at me after a meeting, and more recently sent me a cross email.

Well, wouldn’t you know, the one guy made a real point of being friendly after a meeting earlier this week, and the other wrote me a nice email actually praising a column and saying he had not meant to be hurtful.

It’s difficult enough staying mad at people you like, but when they turn on the charm, it’s more than I can manage.

Peace.