Be an angel to someone else whenever you can, as a way of thanking God for the help your angel has given you.
~Eileen Elias Freeman, The Angels’ Little Instruction Book
Walmart’s automatic doors whooshed open, and my two sons and I hurried in from the cold as a light snow began to fall. I was glad our youth leader, Regina, had obtained permission to set up inside for the angel tree service project. Brian and Jeremy looked forward to helping solicit presents for underprivileged kids, but I doubted their zeal would have lasted long in the biting wind.
I hurried the boys along, wondering how eight-year-old Jeremy would hold up. In addition to a foot problem that caused pain if he stood or walked very much, he had attention deficit disorder. Keeping his mind on one thing for very long was difficult.
Even though it was only 9:00 a.m., Christmas shoppers packed the aisles. Carols played overhead as we scanned the brightly lit store for our fellow volunteers. We finally spotted a group of children of various ages near the jewelry counter. They stood next to an artificial tree covered with pink and blue paper angels.
“What a great spot,” I said as we joined them. “So close to the front and right by the cash registers.”
Regina gave me a rueful smile. “Yes, except that by the time customers come this way, they’re finished shopping and are ready to check out. No one wants to go back and buy another gift, even though it’s for a good cause.”
I studied the angels more closely. Each one was imprinted with the first name and age of a child whose gift purchased that day might well be the only one he or she received. More than a hundred of these angels decorated the tree. The boys and I planned to buy gifts for two children, but we couldn’t provide for them all.
After a few unsuccessful attempts at getting donations, Regina divided the kids into two groups. “Let’s cover both entrances and catch customers as they come in. Try to steer them over here before they start their shopping. I’ll stay by the tree.”
Jeremy jammed a red Santa hat on his head. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go!”
Catching his enthusiasm, Brian and I followed with another mom and her son. Our excitement soon waned as shoppers passed by with a brusque “No, thank you,” sometimes not even looking at us.
Jeremy took a different tactic. When shoppers came in, he fell in step beside their carts and began explaining about the angel tree. “Their moms and dads don’t have enough money for presents. If we don’t help, they won’t get anything for Christmas. All you have to do is go pick an angel off the tree and buy a toy. Just ten or fifteen dollars. If that’s too much, you can give us some money, and we’ll collect more until we have enough to buy a present.”
My young son hardly drew breath between sentences. His words were sincere and heartfelt. His round, cherubic cheeks and beatific smile sealed the deal. Time after time, customers thrust money at him. Some were probably afraid if they didn’t, they’d be stuck with this child for the rest of their shopping trip. But many smiled and altered their course to come by the tree and choose an angel themselves. One shopper pointed out Jeremy and told Regina, “How could anyone resist that angelic face?”
When Jeremy’s pockets became stuffed with money, he would triumphantly run back to me and ask if we could go and shop. We’d grab a couple of paper angels and hunt for just the right gifts. After we checked out, we took the gifts to other volunteers in customer service who wrapped them with bright Christmas paper. Then we headed back to the entrance, Jeremy’s cheeks flushed with excitement at doing it all over again.
Even though he was getting tired, Jeremy stuck to his mission without complaint. For three long hours, he beseeched people, collected money, and bought presents, repeating the cycle until all the angels were adopted. Many of the real-life children represented by pink and blue bits of paper on an artificial tree received gifts that Christmas through his efforts.
Jeremy beamed with pride when Regina praised him for working so hard for needy children in our county. But on the way home, all he could talk about was how glad he felt that no one was left out. All the kids would get presents.
My son was the angels’ angel that day. He ignored his own pain and disability to help those less fortunate, but he didn’t look at it that way. From his point of view, he received the greatest gift — a full heart from bringing joy to others.
~Tracy Crump
