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| Bell-ringers are music to my ears |
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| Opinion - Columns | |||
| Written by Doug Carder | |||
| Wednesday, 17 December 2008 08:00 | |||
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Jingle Bells drift across the Louisburg Price Chopper parking lot Saturday morning as my wife, Jean, sings along. Jean is one of an army of bell ringers who collect donations in the familiar red Salvation Army bucket. The Louisburg Lions Club has been ringing the bell for the Salvation Army since 2000. Although Jean isn’t a member of the Lions Club, she enjoys ringing the bell and singing slightly off key every holiday season. A man pushing a shopping cart full of First National Bank green recyclable shopping bags stops next Jean. “You put in a large enough donation, and I’ll stop singing,” Jean said. The smiling man shoves a wad of bills into the bucket. “Give me a 30-second head start.” He looks over his shoulder and hollers a hearty “Merry Christmas” as he wheels his cart across the lot. Jean stoops to give 2-year-old Reid Cantrell a boost, and the youngster stuffs some cash into the pot. Jean produces a Tootsie Roll from her pocket and hands it to Reid. “Give me five.” The beaming boy slaps Jean’s hand. A man stops to ask Jean if there is a group adopting needy families this season. “We need to make sure all the families in Louisburg are taken care of,” he says. Jean tells the man to call Debbie Randolph, who is helping organize the From the Heart program this year in Louisburg. The program is sponsored by the Sigma Omicron chapter of Beta Sigma Phi sorority, in partnership with the Louisburg Ministerial Alliance and Agape Christian Center. The program helps needy families fill their children’s simple Christmas wishes. In an e-mail Saturday night, Randolph said the group has helped all the families on its list. “I think we ended up with 48 families. We live in an awesome, loving community ... I put the word out and God answered with many angels.” Lions Club member Jo Ann Gangel comes to relieve Jean on this blustery Saturday. “The wind is blowing so hard it tore down about half the lights on the front of our house,” Gangel says of the icicle-shaped Christmas lights adorning her home. Driving home, I turn my pickup onto Broadmoor Street, and leaves rush past on both sides, skipping along the pavement at breakneck speed toward my neighbors’ yards. Stepping into my house to escape the bone-numbing wind, I decide it’s time for hot chocolate and some Christmas music, so I can sing off-key with my favorite bell-ringer.
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