Wit and Wisdom
by Beth Broderick
We never have less than three carts. The discount retailer Big Lots is always the first stop on the day of the “big” shop. For decades we have gone there, confident that we will find gift bags and boxes, giant packs of tissue paper and wrapped candies. And once again we scored these, then commenced the hunt.
There are always new treasures to be found when you look closely enough. This year we nabbed seven nail kits and eleven really nice body wash/ lotion sets. We also found some cool facial-cleansing wipes and a bunch of nice mesh body-scrubbers.
We need 32 of each item, so our loot was tallied before we got in line and were greeted by an astonished employee and regarded by fellow shoppers who seemed both amused and a tetch annoyed by our excess.
“We are doing this for a shelter. It’s our tradition.” Laura explains.
This brought a momentary smile to our cashier’s face before she began the task of scanning our mountain of goods. There was no room on the small countertop, so our pal Elizabeth went to fetch a fourth cart where we could put the bagged items which had been counted. As the process played out, our fellow shoppers grew less and less fond of us. They had to strain, turning sideways to get past our bounty, which was partially blocking the path. Sorry, folks.
SANTA’S ELVES.
Next up, a trip to Ross, formerly known as “Ross Dress for Less.” There, we foraged kneeling down on the floors and poking our heads into the piles of goodies packed onto the shelves. E. scored seven more body wash/lotion sets and that brought us to eighteen, leaving just fourteen to go. There were still T.J Maxx, Rite-Aid, and another Ross not too far from the one we were in. We would keep at it until we reached our goal.
I located a cache of eyeshadow pallets. Only five, but it was a start. We searched on. Laura was hunting perfumes and hand creams. E. scored eight more pallets. I found 30 lipsticks and then grabbed about ten mascaras. Laura scored ten more. Bingo! We filled two carts to the brim and headed into the line. As we got closer to the front, I noticed that the young gal behind was cart-less, holding only a set of measuring cups. I caught her eye and crooked my finger.
“Come up here.” I said, pointing to a space in front of my buggy.
“Oh, thank you!!! She said gratefully. “I have to admit when I saw you guys, I was like “F#%*”
“We get it,” I laughed, “Merry Christmas!”
She beamed and went sailing toward the next checkout station. The rest of the shoppers behind us were not so lucky, but no one complained as we slogged through our many, many, many gift items. The gal behind the counter was fast and efficient. We thanked her for being so helpful as we loaded the bags back into our carts, and before we could pay, she said,“Now you know it’s Tuesday and since you are over 55, we can offer you a Senior Discount today.” She smiled a broad smile, pleased to do her part for the cause.
She was not interested in ID, did not need proof of our dotage. That we qualified was, I am loathe to admit, readily apparent to our new friend.
“Wow. Um … great. Um. Thanks!”
As with so many blessings at this age, it had a bit of an edge to it. Still … ten percent off. ‘Ya now, Char!’
This will be the 34th year that we have provided Christmas gifts for the Good Shepherd Home for Battered Women and Children. Our role has evolved over the years, our focus now on the emergency shelter, but our participation has never wavered. For those of you unfamiliar with this tradition, here is a link to an article I wrote many years ago that tells the story of how this all began:
HUFFPOST: IT HAPPENED ONE CHRISTMAS
Some friends will donate, helping to cover the costs that we incur up front on these pre-party scavenges. Others will bring finds of their own. Don will, as always, add 32 soaps. Gail will once again wrap as many pajamas sets and carefully label them with sizes. On the big night, we will work for hours sorting the items and removing price tags. Lip gloss in one pile, liners in another, perfumes go next to the body kits. Scarves here, socks there, scrubbers over yonder.
Then, half of our elves line up with gift bags and the other half man the tables, making sure that each recipient will get equal goodies. This whole process takes a while, and some folks will retire for a food or beverage break before we begin the last phase.
The bags must be beautiful. We want these women who are coping with a dire situation to feel seen and honored. So, the tissue paper will begin to fly, and bows will be attached. Handles will be ribboned together as the final touches are performed.
Then it will be time for a toast and maybe a sweet treat. We will have done it again--spent precious hours together, doing this simple thing.
THE MORE THE MERRIER.
My nieces recently sent me their “Amazon Wish Lists.” I, of course, had no idea how to use them properly. I had already chosen gifts for Lauren, but this would help guide me to the right items for Meg. I bought a few things and then texted her to let her know.
“LOL, you don’t have to tell me … the list will automatically strike those items.”
Hmm. I also failed to correctly register my purchases for Jenica’s baby shower, forcing her to call me and ask if certain gifts were from me. Arghhhhhh.
My sister Sarah thinks we should create one of these “Wish Lists” for our shelter party. There is a lot of merit to the idea. It would allow a broader faction of our friends and family to participate from afar, and I agree that it would absolutely be more efficient and organized.
But …
I don’t cotton to the idea of stuffing more money into Mr. Jeff Bezos’ pockets. I am pretty sure that guy has enough dough. Still, I am also sure I will be talked into this in the near future. As with all other technological advances, it is almost pointless to resist.
Maybe a mix of the two methods will emerge. I am betting that there will still be a few reasons to sit on the floor in the cosmetics aisle searching for the 32nd eyebrow pencil or seeking out a new gift idea.
The important thing is that we are in it together, this merry band of folks, who go on this journey year after year. We know that we are not curing diseases or solving any of the big stuff. All of the world’s troubles will remain stubbornly in place, waiting for a bigger group to come together to solve them. This is a simple gesture, an offer of support for some women who have suffered greatly and are struggling to begin anew. It is a small sign of our faith in them, a gift made with love and sent with prayers.
It is, also, all I will ever want or need for Christmas.
On we go …
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Good on ya for being a caring person, we need more! Small gestures are so important, as life is rarely completely huge life-altering events.
I'm not offered any "senior" discounts yet, but rarely get carded for alcohol purchases and well meaning 20 year olds call me "ma'am" every time I look less than chipper.