For the past few weeks my office has been collecting food items for Christmas hampers. As the department rep, it was my job to organize this activity and store the food in my cube. (I just realized I should have taken a picture.) We requested to collect for an elderly non-guaranteed pensioner and a large family. Today was delivery day. I was looking forward to this day. The past few weeks have been busy and hairy at work so I wasn't feeling the Christmas spirit. I was hoping that finishing up this good deed would spark a little something inside. I had never delivered a hamper before so I didn't really know what to expect. I don't think it quite worked the way I wanted it to.
For some reason I was very enchanted by the idea of collecting a hamper for the "old lady". I made sure she got the two tins of shortbread cookies, the whole wheat saltines, the Earl Grey tea, and the Strawberry Jello as opposed to the Grape, which seemed more appropriate for the family with kids. On Monday night I had to go out and buy gifts for the children and the lady. I picked out a soft, dusty rose scarf and gloves set. I envisioned her wearing the gloves over her papery skin hands and the hat on her blue white hair as she shuffled down the street on cold Winnipeg winter mornings. I wrapped the gift in pretty paper, ribboned it, and put a label on it with her name and "from Santa" written on it.
This morning I phoned the lady to confirm the delivery. I thought I detected some excitement in her voice as she gave me the details of finding her apartment. I felt a warm spot in my heart already.
My co-workers Kat and Mike came with me to do the deliveries. Mike drove and acted as the obligatory male companion for a trip to the North End. Lady's apartment was in a Manitoba Housing block. We all load up our arms with boxes of food. One of the block's residents saw us and was happy to open doors and hold the elevator for us.
"Christmas Cheerboard?" he asked us.
"Yeah," one of us answered.
"That's great. I got mine yesterday," he said proudly. It was encouraging to see how happy the guy was. Lady lived across the hall from the guy. I think Mike knocked on the door.
Lady opened the door. She wasn't exactly elderly looking. If I had to guess I'd say mid to late 60s. The tiny apartment smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Lady waited as we put our boxes down. I got the feeling that this was routine for her. I started thinking about the scarf and gloves with a bit of disappointment. Lady did thank us as we headed out. Mike wished her a merry Christmas and all the best in the new year in his usual jolly manner.
Our next stop was the family of five's house near the north edge of the city. The mom met us at the back door. I guess to be honest I was expecting or hoping for some kind of bubbling over gratitude. Reflecting on the experience now I don't think the family was ungrateful, I think they were maybe a bit shy, embarrassed even. I can understand that. I think the reality TV shows like Dream Makeover get people thinking that if you make some grand generous gesture you'll get people crying and tripping over themselves to thank you. I guess that's part of why we engage in philanthropy. Although, to be clear, I don't think I do it to make myself feel like a good person, I do it because I like knowing that someone's life has been positively changed. When I don't get that impression I feel disappointed and sometimes discouraged. Am I being unfair here? Judgemental? I hope not. I can't say that I'm excited to do this next year though. I think I would rather try spending an evening at a soup kitchen or something.
I'm interested to hear about anyone else's experiences with philanthropy and what you get out of it. For the record I've had some awesome experiences too.
