I took Monday off, following our big Lighted Christmas Balls workshop last Sunday. Fellow light ambassadors Gardner Sheffield, Daniel Hassell, Jamey Presson and Phil Bullington did the same; throughout the day, each could be seen in his yard, hanging up strings from which to suspend the balls.
Daniel walked over to see how I was doing. He pulled out a large manila envelope, clasped and sealed. It had no markings. Said a man in an old pickup truck stopped and asked, "who's in charge of all this?" nodding toward the few lighted Christmas balls up in the trees. "We all help each other," Daniel said, "but he folks across the street started it all." He handed over envelope to Daniel, said "please give this to them," and left as quickly as he came. And so Daniel handed me the envelope. We turned it over, shook it, and patted it down, felt what could have been a kitchen sponge inside. Deeming it safe, "what's the worst that could happen?" we opened it.
A hand written, unsigned letter:
"I heard of a teenage girl who celebrated her birthday by trading in her presents and converting them to canned goods for your food drive. How special. Please accept this gift as an addition to her efforts. So refreshing to see a selfless act, let alone by a teenager. She obviously is being raised by parents with a solid sense of values. Her parents must be very proud - and lucky!
Thank you and the neighborhood for all you are doing this and every year. We all have things to be grateful for."
And an envelope packed with dollar bills. Not your just-fresh-from-the-teller-machine cash. No, these were older, saved up bills, straightened, all face up and sorted into $20s, $10s, $5s and $1s.
One young person's generosity, canned goods instead of birthday presents, multiplied by an anonymous $300 gift, which under the stewardship of Second Harvest Food Bank of North West North Carolina, compounded further; each Second Harvest dollar buys $12 dollars worth of food. That's the miracle of compounding. One selfless act compounded, transformed into $3,600 worth of groceries. I guess that's why compounding is called the Eighth Wonder of the World."
Daniel walked over to see how I was doing. He pulled out a large manila envelope, clasped and sealed. It had no markings. Said a man in an old pickup truck stopped and asked, "who's in charge of all this?" nodding toward the few lighted Christmas balls up in the trees. "We all help each other," Daniel said, "but he folks across the street started it all." He handed over envelope to Daniel, said "please give this to them," and left as quickly as he came. And so Daniel handed me the envelope. We turned it over, shook it, and patted it down, felt what could have been a kitchen sponge inside. Deeming it safe, "what's the worst that could happen?" we opened it.
A hand written, unsigned letter:
Thank you and the neighborhood for all you are doing this and every year. We all have things to be grateful for."
And an envelope packed with dollar bills. Not your just-fresh-from-the-teller-machine cash. No, these were older, saved up bills, straightened, all face up and sorted into $20s, $10s, $5s and $1s.
One young person's generosity, canned goods instead of birthday presents, multiplied by an anonymous $300 gift, which under the stewardship of Second Harvest Food Bank of North West North Carolina, compounded further; each Second Harvest dollar buys $12 dollars worth of food. That's the miracle of compounding. One selfless act compounded, transformed into $3,600 worth of groceries. I guess that's why compounding is called the Eighth Wonder of the World."
