Christmas lights

by Daniel Powell

(totteringtimes@gmail.com)

Well, another year is about to wind down, and the Christmas season is rapidly approaching. At this time of the year, I always find myself reminiscing of holidays past, when those family members I miss so much, were still here.

I grew up in a northern suburb of the city of Denver, where my Mom raised the four of us by herself. Once, when I was five or six years old, my Mom took my siblings and I on a day trip downtown at Christmas time - a chance to see and to experience all the holiday lights and decorations on 16th Street. At that time, 16th Street was the major retail shopping district in Denver. All the stores competed to create the most spectacular window displays for the holidays.

Money was always tight for Mom - but that particular year, her finances were especially tight, and as a result, there were to be no presents that Christmas. Although we had no money to spend in the stores, Mom was trying to give us a pleasant outing, and at the same time, to teach us something about being grateful for what we had.

On the drive downtown, Mom had warned us that we might encounter some “panhandlers” on 16th Street. She told us that if we did, we should just keep walking, and not speak to them. I really didn’t know what a panhandler was, nor did I know why they would be asking us for money. Mom, however, seemed very concerned about it all - which my ignorance of the subject, would not allow me to understand - and that left me feeling very curious. I just couldn’t wait to see a panhandler up close.

We began our walk down 16th Street at the old May D&F Store. There was an outdoor rink there, where people were skating, drinking hot chocolate, and happily enjoying the holiday season. May D&F, like Macy’s in New York City, always had really elaborate displays in their store windows, often with holiday figures which were animated. Christmas carols played through speakers, so you could hear from outside the store. It was truly a spectacle to see, and as children, it was, indeed, the treat that Mom had intended.

As it turned out, as we progressed down the street, we were approached by several men asking for money. Some were old, some were young. Some were dirty, and appeared to be homeless, while others appeared very clean, and to not really be in any need of a hand-out. All of them, however, had no hesitation to approach my Mom, with her brood, to ask her if she could give them some money.

I suppose it is fair to say that we were poor, however, Mom always made sure that we were dressed properly, and our clothes were always clean – even if a bit worn. Looking back, I would have thought it apparent that we had no more money than those who were asking for some, however, maybe that didn’t really matter to the askers, or maybe, Mom had just done a good job of making us look presentable.

In any event, whenever a panhandler would approach, and ask for money, Mom was like a protective mother hen - circling around us; whispering to us to ignore the man; keeping us moving down the sidewalk; and always keeping herself between us kids and the panhandler. I wonder now, whether she felt frightened by those men asking her for money. If she did, she didn’t let it show. It was, yet another example of the strong-willed person she had always been.

When we got to the Joslin’s store, on the lower end of 16th Street, there was a man standing by a red bucket, ringing a bell. Mom explained that he was with the Salvation Army, and that he was collecting money to help people, like the panhandlers we had seen. She gave each of us a few pennies, so that we could each put them into the red kettle, and thus, give something to help others. It was a good way to teach us that lessen, and I have never forgotten that basic principal of a civilized society.

One by one, my brother and my two sisters, stepped forward, and deposited their pennies into the kettle. I, on the other hand, refused to put my money into the kettle - insisting that I wanted to give the pennies directly to one of the panhandlers - determined to cut out the “middle man” I guess. Seems Mom wasn’t the only strong-willed person in the family.

There was a man standing a few steps away, and I walked over to him, and offered him my few pennies. The man patted me on the head, smiled at my Mother, and then proceeded to drop my pennies into the red kettle - walking away, without saying a word.

To this day, I do not know if that man was, in fact, a panhandler - who was grateful for what he had, and therefore, gave away my few pennies. Or if, perhaps, he was just a guy, who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had to deal with a dumb kid who thought, for some reason, that he needed a few pennies in order to survive.

Christmas was a forgettable event that year, so I suppose, it is no surprise that I have no memory of being disappointed by the lack of gifts. As I look back on that time, however, I see clearly that Mom accomplished both her tasks that day. We had a great time looking at all the decorations - and we learned a lesson about helping others - while being grateful for what we had. Job done! Thanks, Mom.

Some Christmas stories have warm and moral themes. Other Christmas stories are light hearted and humorous. As it turns out - this Christmas story seems to have both.