Davich: Bell ringers see their share of Scrooges amid gestures of generosity

He watched a lot of Scrooges hurry past him, but also a lot of Fezziwigs who balanced out the bucket of humanity.

“One gentleman sheepishly whispered to me as he placed his donation in the red kettle, ‘You know, they are hiring at Walmart,’” Miller said. “Others would walk by indigently and try to ignore the loud ringing of the red bell in my hand as I tried to bring the ring to a crescendo.”

Many people, seemingly in a new rush, would reach deep into their pocket or purse to find loose change, prompting Miller to politely remind them, “We take folding money.”

Other bell-ringers shared similar observations with me about their exchanges with strangers while standing next to red kettles across our Region.

“We see all kinds, that’s for sure,” a female bell ringer told me outside a grocery store in Valparaiso.

“The best and worst of people,” a male bell-ringer said at a Walmart in Merrillville.

And everyone in between.

These bell-ringers all share a unique vantage point in our society. They see firsthand who’s naughty or nice, who gives money every time, and who does anything possible to avoid them. Unlike other charitable donations we make - typically online or anonymously or at private functions - donations to Salvation Army red kettles are done publicly, openly and often witnessed by bell ringers.

“It leaves a lasting imprint on those who donate to the kettle,” said Tom Miller, a long-time bell-ringer who looked like a human Christmas tree with a strand of twinkling lights wrapped around him.

This past weekend, I spoke with a woman ringing a Salvation Army bell who sat in a chair next to a red kettle inside a grocery store. Like most bell-ringers, she quietly watched people come and go as she occasionally twisted her wrist to make some noise.

“We tell everyone Merry Christmas either way,” she said.

Some shoppers find the bell ringing annoying. Others find it to be Pavlovian in nature, a seasonal conditioning for us to instinctively reach into our pockets or purse or wallet. The ringing can be heard from across a parking lot or even from across a street. It gives people ample time to make a decision: Should I give money or not?

Confession: I don’t give money every time. Sometimes I’m carrying only a Discover card without my wallet. My wife dutifully gives to every bell-ringer, which is probably a similar dynamic for many couples. Nonetheless, I enjoy hearing the bell ringing, which helps me get into the holiday spirit. In early December, I need all the Christmas cues I can get.

“Salvation Army is a poor barometer of my charitable spirit,” Alice Morris, a reader from Crown Point, told me. “”It’s a Christian organization that doesn’t share my values. I shouldn’t be judged depending on whether or not I drop money into their red kettles.”

Morris was one of many readers who responded to a column I wrote last month about “giving out loud,” regarding people who either perform a good deed and proclaim the gesture to the world. Or those who give a generous donation and make sure everyone else knows about it.

“Years ago, our accountant asked why I didn’t have receipts from all my donations, including things I’ve dropped off at Goodwill,” Judi Nuest, a loyal reader, wrote via email. “I told him I didn’t really think I was donating anything if I received compensation in return.”

I had never thought of this aspect of making donations and reporting it for tax purposes. As another reader noted, “Credit you give yourself is not worth having,” quoting Irving Thalberg, a film producer from the early 20th century.

Several readers shared with me the same biblical scripture, Matthew 6:2, involving this topic.

"So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others… your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you."

A few years ago, I volunteered as a bell-ringer during the holidays, specifically for a column. It was my own social experiment to see if people donated money based on how I acted while wearing the organization's trademark red vest and ringing its familiar bell.

With my experience, people tended to give more money to those bell-ringers who are lively and cheerful, or who opened doors for customers or herded shopping carts out of the way. I’m probably the same way as a donor. Personal interaction makes a difference. Personality matters.

Salvation Army officials told me that many of its paid bell-ringers are low-income residents, and some of them have been able to get out of a homeless shelter due to their holiday income through the organization. I try to keep this in mind when hearing those bells.

Gale Miller witnessed a microcosm of society as he watched on while standing next to his red kettle. Strangers who were rude. Others who were cheerful. Many who ignored him. Some who praised him.

“The good news is most were very polite and donated with a smile,” he said. “I especially enjoyed how parents and grandparents taught their children how to push the money through that tiny slot in the sacred red kettle. That’s when I received my reward that day - watching the children give."