Red Kettle

Christmas Eve at the grocer’s, I rounded up a few items and made it through checkout. Almost out the door, I heard the bell and saw a man sitting by a red kettle asking passersby for spare change for the less fortunate. I walked over, set down my bags and we chatted. It was a slow day for him. People don’t carry cash anymore. I checked my pockets for quarters or maybe a dollar bill. Nothing. But I had a stash, a few greenbacks for special occasions. I made my donation. I felt real good about it. So did he.