My dad always said: being charitable is as much a benefit to the person giving as it is to the person receiving.
I’ve said it before, so I won’t drone on again, but to say my dad grew up with humble beginnings is an understatement. To his credit, I think it also contributed to his generous nature.
As kids, I remember packing up the winter coats we’d outgrown to give to a family in town who he knew was struggling. I also remember him explaining that when I saw “Alison” at school next week wearing what was once my coat, that I was not to say anything (we know kids can be brutal, even when they don’t intend to be) because to her the coat is new and she should get to enjoy it every bit as I did.
My dad would give you the last dollar in his pocket and the shirt off his back. Once my brother’s bike got stolen and my dad’s response was that they must have really needed the bike.
After my dad passed away my mom ran into a lady in town who is probably my age or a bit older. She offered her condolences and proceeded to tell my mom about a story their mom had always told them about my dad.
My parents owned a small shop for a few years when I was little – clothing, grocery items, toys, etc. – and this one particular lady was raising 17 (yes, 17) children on her own as her husband had passed away. She came into my parent’s shop one day near the holidays to pay off her grocery bill. Knowing how close it was to Christmas, my dad asked the lady if she needed anything special for the kids. Before she could answer, he offered to let her take pick out the toys and gifts she wanted, he would add it to her tab and she could pay it off in the spring of the following year when she would have more money. “No child should go without presents of Christmas,” he said.
I’ve grown up with the same sense of duty. “To whom much is given, much is expected,” I believe is the saying.
As much of a struggle as COVID has been with everyone at home, working crazy hours, having those crazy hours to work is also a luxury, and I can’t enjoy the convenience of having an Instacart order delivered to my house unless there is an allotment in that order for the foodbank. When school starts, making sure when we pick up all those exciting new school supplies that we get some to donate as well. This year we donated new backpacks and matching lunch bags, along with school-safe snacks to Halton Food 4 Kids.
I don’t get a new coat without making sure the previous one is washed and donated to the Compassion Society. And I don’t fully enjoy Christmas until gifts are donated to the seniors’ home, packages for the women’s shelter are wrapped or the mitten tree at school is full.
The point of this post isn't to shine a spotlight on what I'm doing, but I wanted to illustrate how my seeing those small acts of kindness from my dad, and being taught from an early age to respect other people's autonomy no matter their position in life has been perhaps one of the most remarkable gifts I could been given.
Wishing you the happiest of holidays!