Spirit Of Generosity

Working in a liquor store I hear people wishing each other a Merry Christmas 19 million times a day.

Friends run into friends, they have a conversation, they part with "Merry Christmas, Raoul. Merry Christmas, Claude."

It is easy to differentiate between those who mean it and those who don't.

Everybody is running around mindlessly at this time of year stressing out about shopping and traffic and parking spaces and maxxed out credit cards. It is even more noticeable to me this year because Carol and I have removed ourselves from the process.

No Christmas shopping.

The words "Merry Christmas" become one more mindless part of the process. People say it without thinking because that is what you do at this time of year.

I waited on 16 million people over the last five days, and I actively tried not to say Merry Christmas. I tried to say it only to people who gave off the right vibe. And to children. Because saying it to every single customer I saw renders the expression meaningless.

Of course I slipped many times and said it to people who didn't deserve it, but I'm not worried about that because the words just bounce off people like that. They don't penetrate the leathery skin to get anywhere near close to the heart.

Anyway, the people who say it and mean it are the ones who fascinate me. These people say it with a warm spirit of generosity and an honest sparkle in their eyes. It comes across. You can't miss it.

I like these people. I don't think it is just about Christmas with them. I think it reflects an attitude. An attitude of caring, about recognizing humanity.

These people represent one tenth of one percent of the general population. But they are out there. So there is hope.

I got to talk to many kids this past week. We are one of the few liquor stores that sells to children. If you can prove that you are at least six years old, you got yourself a bottle, no questions asked. All you gotta do is hold up the right number of fingers with a confirming age accuracy nod from Mom or Dad.

Anyway, those eyes sparkle. The smiles light up their faces. We talk about Santa and presents and Christmas. They laugh, I laugh, it is a basic happiness I feed on like a starving tiger.

I survived the madness. Now I am sitting here waiting. Waiting for the spirit to move me. It may not happen on my own. But it will kick into gear when the family gets together and starts percolating.

That's a gift, baby. That's a gift.