No Hungry Hearts For Christmas – Part 2 of 4

Part 2…

At nine months pregnant with my second child,  I was a little preoccupied.

Not just with my “condition,” but with the plans we had made to help the kids at St. Michaels.

Due to my unusually large size, the doctors thought that I might be having twins.  To make things more interesting, my due date was anticipated for Christmas day.

Regardless, I pushed aside baby kicks, household chores and holiday shopping and focused on St. Michaels.

Since speaking with Sister Marta yesterday on the phone ideas swarmed in my head on how to get Christmas to the kids.

It wasn’t easy to lay out such a big project in less than two weeks, but time was of the essence. So I assembled a loosely organized plan and dug right in.

I quickly discovered that I wouldn’t be able to do this all by myself. Help would be needed. Being a close family has many benefits & one of those was an having instant “team” when you needed help the most.

My mom (whom we call, Honey) and my sister, Gini, worked tirelessly right along side me.  My husband cared for our seven year old son who watched the project unfold before his eyes.

The first order of business was a donation letter targeted at some of the larger businesses in the county.

I thought for sure that these companies would be willing to help once they learned about the circumstances surrounding such unfortunate kids.

Little did I know at the time that this would only be the beginning of the generosity.

My IBM Selectric had a hard time keeping up as I cranked out letters until my fingers were sore.  Each correspondence was individually tailored to each business.

Papers & envelopes were stacked & strewn all over my kitchen table & chairs.

Honey hand addressed all of the envelopes as Gini stuffed, stamped & sealed.

We had allocated one day for letters as they had to be in the mail & delivered well before Christmas arrived.

Our mini assembly line chugged along and we couldn’t shut it down until the last envelope was ready for mailing.

The second phase of the plan was to visit some of the smaller, local businesses in town and ask for their help. I made a list of a couple dozen stores & shops and planned to reach out to each one personally.

Unusually bad weather had brought rain, hail and snow.  Everything froze and inches of ice buried our driveway.

Despite my condition and the inclement weather, I ventured out for Phase Two.

My first visit was a local sporting goods shop.

It was a huge establishment.

Housed in a majestic, red brick building it stretched around the corner of Main Street.

A parking spot right up front eased my transition from cold car to even colder front door. I pulled in & made my way to the entrance.

Walking in, I quickly surveyed the room. The place was spectacular. All makes of sporting goods, hunting & fishing supplies, camping gear, clothes and shoes filled the walls & display isles. Honestly, it was a little intimidating. All these years living here, I couldn’t believe I had never set foot in this store.

I thought briefly about turning around and starting my quest with a less ambitious prospect, but before I could change my mind, a pleasant voice came from behind,

“Merry Christmas, ma’am. I’m Tony. Can I help you find something?”

I turned and was greeted by a handsome, young  man who looked to be about nineteen or twenty. He was dressed in a crimson, long sleeved button down which was neatly tucked into well worn khakis. He stood there smiling wearing an over-sized Santa hat that somehow worked with his informal business attire.

At that moment, I realized that I hadn’t even considered how I would present my concern to these business owners.  I was too busy laying out our plan to think about its actual execution.

Oops.

Now here I was, standing in front of  Tony. This was the real deal. For a second, I thought I would just ask where the basketballs were, make a quick purchase and leave, but Tony had a pleasant way about him. So instead, I introduced myself & went for it.

Just as I began to unfold the story of St. Michaels to my new friend, Tony abruptly excused himself.

“Wait right here,” he said and quickly walked towards the back of the store exiting through a set of swinging green doors.

The basketball idea was starting to sound pretty good right now.

With no time to decide what to do next the same doors swung open again. Except now it wasn’t Tony coming back to resume our conversation. Instead, a huge man with a scruffy black beard, red plaid flannel shirt and black suspenders strode briskly towards me.

A helpful elf possibly? Or maybe store security ready to bounce me out of there before I could bother any other employees.

Based on his size alone, I was hoping it wasn’t the latter.

As he approached, I could see the concerned scowl stretched across his terse face.

This wasn’t looking good for me.

He quickly introduced himself as Jack, the owner of the store.

“Lady, in your condition, you shouldn’t be walking around in this kind of weather. If you’re in my store on a day like today, then either you must be crazy or this must be important. I’ll listen to what you have to say. Just promise to take yourself back home when you’re done!”

I was stunned. Could this be my chance?

Quickly regaining my senses, I used the opportunity to relay my conversation with Sister Marta to Jack.

As I recalled the events in detail, I watched for Jack’s reaction. With his arms crossed, he shifted uncomfortably as he stared up at the ceiling.

Never once looking at me as I told him about the kids at St. Michaels.

If his stature were any indication,  I thought for sure I wasn’t getting anywhere with Jack. 

Despite his inattentive demeanor, I uncomfortably pressed on. Finishing my dispatch with an alleviating sigh, Jack briefly looked down at me. Never expecting what I saw, I was taken back.

This giant of a man had tears welling in his eyes. Struggling to fight them back, he refused to make eye contact.

I didn’t know what to say.

Not knowing what else to do, I put my hand on his mountainous shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

“Are you, OK, Jack?” I asked.

Wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve, he finally spoke, “I’m sorry for the waterworks. I don’t normally get emotional like this. It’s just that I know what it’s like growing up with very little. It’s not fun. Especially not for a kid on Christmas. All these years later all I wanted to do…all I tried to do, was forget about those times. Then you come in here and within 5 minutes it all comes pouring back.”

“What have I done!” This was all I could think to myself. This poor guy had a terrible childhood and I come in here make his life worse by rehashing old memories. Great job! “Merry Christmas to you, Jack!”

I felt horrible.

At this point, I thought it might be best if I left the store and took Jack’s advice to head straight home.

Maybe Phase Two of my plan wasn’t such a s good idea after all.

“I’m very sorry, Jack. This wasn’t at all my intention. I didn’t come here to ruin your day or even worse your holidays.”

As I turned to leave,  Jack gently grabbed my arm. “Wait. Where are you going?”

Still embarrassed over my recent performance, I pivoted towards him. My gaze never leaving the floor.

“If you didn’t  come in here today, then I couldn’t thank you.”

“Thank me?” I looked up. Jack was staring directly at me.

The first thing I noticed was that his tears had stopped.

I could see that he had brown eyes. No longer woeful, they were kind & spirited.  Through his scruffy beard I could see his stern jawline had relaxed into a content, beautiful smile.

“What could you possibly be thanking me for, Jack?”

“Thank you for not letting me forget.”

With that, he turned and yelled to Tony and some other employees. He gathered them together and directed them to fill my station wagon with whatever they could fit.

As if that wasn’t enough, Jack promised to load his huge delivery truck with all sorts of sporting equipment and games and personally deliver them to the children’s home.

As he put it, “It would be my ultimate pleasure.”

Now, I was the one fighting back the tears. This was a truly amazing outcome.

Walking into that store that day, I didn’t know what to expect. Walking out, however,  I was filled with unbridled hope and encouragement.

Despite Jack’s continued insistence to go straight home, I knew that I couldn’t. After what had just occurred in the sporting goods store, I had to use the momentum to move forward with the plan.

As I left Jack’s, I gingerly sidestepped snow banks and parking meters and made my way a few shops down to the stationary store owned by Mr. Gruber.

Mr. Gruber was a kind and gentle man in his late sixites. Our family had been patrons of his store for years.

I knew that once he learned of the situation at St. Michaels, he would be willing to do whatever he could to help the kids.

As I entered the warm store, the comforting scents of fine stationary, greeting cards and books filled the air. A dangling strand of sleigh bells announced my arrival as they shook against the weight of the heavy glass door.

It was a welcome respite from the unforgiving cold.

Mr. Gruber saw me come in. Seeing me in the store several times in the months prior, he knew that my condition was not one to challenge the elements.

As he rushed to meet me, he grabbed an office chair from a floor display in a gesture to swiftly get me off my feet.

“My goodness,” he exclaimed. “Don’t move one more step. Please, sit, sit.”

I took him up on his offer. Getting off my feet for a few minutes sounded like a wonderful idea.

“Thank you, Mr. Gruber. That was very considerate. It’s not easy navigating when it’s hard to see your feet!”

“Oh, nonsense. You don’t need to thank me. Although, I don’t have to tell you how treacherous it is out there. The sidewalks are fit for more for ice skating than for walking. What ever would bring you out on a day like today?”

Using this segue, I proceeded to tell him about Sister Marta, the kids & our plan to give them an unforgettable Christmas.

Mr. Gruber stood there and listened intently. Although remaining silent as I spoke, his facial expressions indicated that my message was being well received.

As I concluded my monologue, he smiled and nodded with approval.

“Alex,” he yelled to his son. Alex helped Mr. Gruber run the store and was always as kind and helpful as his dad. “Please come up to the front, son. Quickly!”

Before Alex had a chance to make it to the front of the store, Mr. Gruber was already directing him. Pointing towards the entrance to the rear storeroom, he re-routed Alex to the back.

“Don’t move,” he insisted. “We’ll be right back.”

Mr Gruber followed Alex and they both disappeared behind a black curtain which lead to the warehouse. Directly above the doorway was a beautiful hand crafted sign that read simply: “Giving Is Receiving.”

Within minutes the duo reappeared. Both of them hugging stacks of board games, puzzles, books, art supplies, Legos and assorted other goodies from their back room.

I was speechless.

They offered their best merchandise and held nothing back.

“Please, Mr. Gruber, this is a beautiful gesture, but I have to insist that you only give what you can spare.”

Mr. Gruber just smiled. Regardless of my insistence, they returned to the back room and quickly resurfaced with yet another bundle of treasures.

Their genuine kindness was heartwarming and their actions were selfless.

I was humbled to be witness to such an outpouring of graciousness & love for these almost forgotten kids.

Leaving Mr. Gruber’s store, I couldn’t imagine the day getting much better. I really hoped I was wrong.

Even though my journey was shortened by the deteriorating weather, I was able to make it to several other establishments before I had to retire. Fortunately, I was blessed with the same reception that I had received from Jack & Mr. Gruber.

I was quickly discovering that people had an inherent desire to help others in need. Especially when it was kids who didn’t even know that they were being helped.

By the time I did make it home, my station wagon was stuffed with gifts while trucks from various businesses planned to deliver more goods to the home in time for Christmas.

As I put my son to bed that night, I reflected on the day. I couldn’t believe what had been accomplished in such a short amount of time.

This was actually happening. Our plan was coming together.

A couple of days had passed and the news had traveled. Calls came in from moms in neighboring areas who wanted to join us.

Their enthusiasm became contagious & the community generosity was overwhelming.

One mom sent her four kids to every neighbor for presents. The newest in electronic games, hairdryers, records and other contributions were graciously given. Being part of a greater good created personal excitement for these new helpers as their hearts became immersed in giving.

During this time we met Ralph, a local beverage distributor.

Ralph’s 6’4″ frame, white bushy mustache and hearty thunderous greeting was a little off-putting to say the least. A well chewed cigar was tightly secured in the corner of his mouth. Encircled with white smoke, Ralph towered over me as I explained the nature of our visit.

I knew instantly, despite his intimidating stature, that his heart was kind and gracious.

Not only did Ralph donate hundreds of cases of sodas for the holidays, he connected me with some of his friends. This included a convenience store for snacks and a local bus company for transportation.

The most popular venues in the area also agreed to help.

A local production of the Nutcracker Suite provided a special performance for the entire St. Michaels troop. While the 117 Dinner Theater hosted Godspell  as the kids enjoyed dinner and a show.

As the Christmas Playhouse featured an off-Broadway production of Oliver, to which all of the kids were invited, The Chamber of Commerce filled intermissions with snacks and refreshments!

Ralph’s bus company friends pitched in and provided free transportation to every event!

Free bowling, free movies and more kept Christmas bubbling through the generous giving spirit of the community. Excitement filled my heart for the kids, as they were able to go to places that many of these kids had never even heard of.

Sister Marta later wrote in a letter, “You’ll never know the fullness of joy brought to my kids who know so little joy.”

I had my heart set on a skating rink in a nearby town. The kids would love it!

To my surprise, Jim, the owner, lived at St. Michaels when he was five years old!

It felt as though I had hit the jackpot.

There wasn’t anything in the world he would rather have done then to make the skating rink available, free of charge throughout the year, for the kids who wanted to skate.

Rumor had it even the nuns skated.

A real Christmas for St. Michaels was nearing, but even more was needed.

As the Christmas gifts pilled in, I was starting to run out of space in our tiny house. The overflow would have to go somewhere until we could get everything over to St.Michaels.  My sister, Gini, already had gifts at her house too, but offered to take some of the “surplus” to help me free some space.

Not living far from me, she offered to drop by and pick them up.

Ten minutes later she was in my bedroom carrying boxes to her car.

Taking the last load, I walked with her to the car. As she started the engine, Christmas music came barreling through the car radio speakers.

“I just love the music around the holidays” Gini said. “It’s so beautiful and realxing.”

Then it hit me! “Gini, I gotta go. I just had an idea!”

With that, I rushed into the house, grabbed the Yellow Pages and called a local radio station. I explained our story to the first person that answered the phone.

They suggested that I write a press release and send it over immediately.

Not knowing how to write a press release (or really even what one was) , I did my best.

In an effort to waste no time, I asked my husband to hand deliver the press release as soon as it was completed (as e-mail and fax machines had not blessed our lives yet).

It didn’t take long before the airwaves were filled with Christmas spirit and another surge of giving began.

Vincento, a successful businessman and friend, operated an all year garden nursery. He heard the radio announcement and offered his business as a depot to drop off gifts for the kids.  Many businesses from all over the county did the same.

While driving home one evening from a toy pickup at Vincento’s nursery, I finally noticed all of the colored Christmas lights twinkling through the snow covered hillsides. Everything sparkled with Christmas. With how busy we had been, I hadn’t taken the time to notice them before that day.

They were beautiful and only reinforced the need to keep my heart focused on the kids so they wouldn’t miss a thing.

Having never been involved in fundraising before, I didn’t have rules, any do’s or any don’ts.  I simply followed my heart.

Knowing that time was of the essence, I quickly moved to the next phase of our mission

Read Part 1 of No Hungry Hearts For Christmas
Read Part 3 of No Hungry Hearts For Christmas