Robin Layne's Blog: From the Red, Read Robin - Posts Tagged "salvation-army"
On Not Reading: Confessions of a Caroling Bell Ringer
This Christmas season, I am bell-ringing for the Salvation Army six hours a day, six days a week. I am not, as some who pass by assume, a volunteer. I earn minimum wage. I need the money to pay bills. But I also love the job. I did it every year since my daughter was small, until I went back to college and was too busy with my studies. What could be so great about standing—or sitting, when my medical problems flare up—for hours on end ringing a bell? First off, it’s for a good cause. The kettle money is the only source that the Salvation Army has to help the needy within this county at Christmas time and all year round. I also love greeting people, spreading cheer and blessings and keeping an attitude of prayer throughout the day. If I had a present for every time that someone wished me a Merry Christmas out there in front of the Safeway—or the times I wished others the same—I don’t know where I would fit all the gifts. I represent Christmas and a Christian ministry and church that is well-liked by all types of people. Some people tell me that it is the only social service that gets through to military workers and disaster victims. I love watching children enjoy giving, and I laugh that they call me Santa although I’m a woman and I don’t exactly dress the part. They ought to know better, I think, because while I ring, I sing. My favorite part of this job is the special contribution of my voice.
Never mind the story that a robin heralds the spring. This Robin gets her greatest opportunity to sing out in the winter: carols about the birth of my beloved Lord, songs of joy about fun times, hymns of thanks and worship, and titles that aren’t connected with Christmas but speak of winter cold and snow. I even wrote two of my own verses to “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas”:
Jolly old Saint Nicholas,
lend your ear this way;
I hope you tell everyone
what I’m going to say.
Christmas Eve is coming soon;
Now, you dear old man,
whisper what it really means,
tell me if you can.
Daddy wants a brand new car,
Mommy wants a house,
sister wants a new PC,
kitty wants a mouse;
But these kinds of presents can’t
give our spirits rest;
Only God, who sent His Son,
gives the very best.
You can listen to me sing this on YouTube: St. Nicholas song
People like my voice. They don’t often stop long enough to hear a whole song, or even a whole verse, but it is enough to cheer them, invite compliments, sympathy when it’s cold, and cups of Starbucks hot cocoa, not to mention an increasing number of donations as the season progresses. I’m not allowed to put money in the bucket myself this year, which leads to some people’s carts rolling down the sloping sidewalk into the parking lot, especially if I have to sit in my chair and can’t reach to hold the cart for them.
The plan this year was for every paid ringer to work Monday through Friday, replaced by volunteers on Saturday, but at my location no one volunteered during the hours I work (1 to 7 pm.). I’m happy to make the extra money, but boy does it keep me busy! When I’m not at work or commuting to and from, it amazes me how much time just preparing Christmas letters and cards takes. Not to mention all the time (and money) it took to get enough warm clothes to get me through freezing days. I wear ski pants every day, two wool sweaters, two warm hats under my Santa cap, and more layers than that under my wool coat. A lot of people say, “You picked a cold day to do this!” or “You must be freezing!” Some nights I nearly am, but other times I’m hot in all those layers. I look at these people, dressed as if for summer, and I wonder how they can stand just walking in and out of the store. Some say, “You should be inside!” I don’t belong inside; I would bake in my layers, I wouldn’t be able to sing, and I probably couldn’t ring, either.
I have to carry a lot with me on the bus to work including a full thermos, a lunch to eat just before I start, a cozy blanket for when I am sitting on the colder days, toe and hand warmers, you name it. So I don’t take a book. I am used to reading on the bus. Ergo, I’m not getting my reading done. And—here’s where the real confession comes in—although I have no excuse about weight or volume at home, I have hardly read my Bible since I started the job this season. Normally I read some nearly every morning with breakfast. Now at that meal, I pore over my schedule book, address Christmas cards, make phone calls, whatever else I feel I need to do. I feel like the biblical Martha, a human doing rather than a human being, when I’m at home doing all these tasks. Only last Saturday and Sunday did I slow down. I found play even more necessary than sleep last night. I dinked around on the computer until about 4 in the morning, although I had to get up at 6:30 to get ready for church. Then, I brought a book on the bus, Norman Vincent Peale’s The Power Of Positive Thinking. And I actually read! I read about the importance of taking time to relax and to read some Bible.
The human being is alive from the depths of her heart at the kettle. My church has no choir, and I haven’t played my guitar in a long time; I lack the motivation to take up those songs I wrote long ago or write new ones when the guitar playing has become so rusty. But at the kettle, the person I most entertain is myself. What I lack in Bible reading, I make up for in worship. When the only reading I do is the lyrics in my song folder, I’m in my element. Some of the songs even make me cry—which is bad for singing, let me tell you. And my range is sometimes lacking, especially earlier in the day. Although “O Holy Night” is practically everyone’s favorite, I won’t attempt it before dark. But I can sing “I Want a Hippopotamus” anytime. “The Grinch Song” I don’t usually attempt because I’m afraid passersby might think I’m saying all those despicable things about them. Anyway, you get the idea.
If you want to read some of my reflections about Christmas songs, go to http://robinlayne.hubpages.com/hub/Cr.... It also features a picture of me at the kettle and a video of me singing my “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas” verses … complete with my daughter’s cat on my lap—until he, like my audience in front of the store, rushes off to other business.
Another confession: I did bring my draft of this post with me on the bus to edit. But since it’s not a book, it doesn’t really count as “reading,” does it? Just as writing short things like this while ignoring my novel-in-progress doesn’t count as “writing.”
The reason I have time to post this now is that my body very radically told me to take a break: The ankle I sprained prior to the beginning of my job acted up today and I had to skip working on what might be one of the best-yielding days of the season (the Saturday before Christmas). And if it’s not the ankle, it’s a knee. At least there were two volunteers today, from 10 to noon and from noon to 2.
I’d already arranged for a friend to pick up my Christmas food box today. Can you hazard a guess as to the source of this gift? Yep. The Salvation Army. Better than the food, to my mind, was flyer with a new rendition of the Lord’s Prayer:
Our Father in heaven,
Reveal who you are.
Set the world right;
Do what’s best—
As above, so below.
Keep us alive with three square meals,
Keep us forgiven with you
And forgiving others.
Keep us safe from ourselves and the evil one.
You’re in charge!
You can do anything you want!
You’re ablaze in beauty!
Yes. Yes. Yes.
AMEN
Okay . . . When it’s that potent a message, it doesn’t have to be a portion of a book. It counts as reading.
I will post a picture of myself at the kettle from a few years back in my Photos section.
I urge you also to “do the most good” in all your endeavors both during this season and all year long.
Merry Christmas to all, to all a good night, and peace through 2014!
Never mind the story that a robin heralds the spring. This Robin gets her greatest opportunity to sing out in the winter: carols about the birth of my beloved Lord, songs of joy about fun times, hymns of thanks and worship, and titles that aren’t connected with Christmas but speak of winter cold and snow. I even wrote two of my own verses to “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas”:
Jolly old Saint Nicholas,
lend your ear this way;
I hope you tell everyone
what I’m going to say.
Christmas Eve is coming soon;
Now, you dear old man,
whisper what it really means,
tell me if you can.
Daddy wants a brand new car,
Mommy wants a house,
sister wants a new PC,
kitty wants a mouse;
But these kinds of presents can’t
give our spirits rest;
Only God, who sent His Son,
gives the very best.
You can listen to me sing this on YouTube: St. Nicholas song
People like my voice. They don’t often stop long enough to hear a whole song, or even a whole verse, but it is enough to cheer them, invite compliments, sympathy when it’s cold, and cups of Starbucks hot cocoa, not to mention an increasing number of donations as the season progresses. I’m not allowed to put money in the bucket myself this year, which leads to some people’s carts rolling down the sloping sidewalk into the parking lot, especially if I have to sit in my chair and can’t reach to hold the cart for them.
The plan this year was for every paid ringer to work Monday through Friday, replaced by volunteers on Saturday, but at my location no one volunteered during the hours I work (1 to 7 pm.). I’m happy to make the extra money, but boy does it keep me busy! When I’m not at work or commuting to and from, it amazes me how much time just preparing Christmas letters and cards takes. Not to mention all the time (and money) it took to get enough warm clothes to get me through freezing days. I wear ski pants every day, two wool sweaters, two warm hats under my Santa cap, and more layers than that under my wool coat. A lot of people say, “You picked a cold day to do this!” or “You must be freezing!” Some nights I nearly am, but other times I’m hot in all those layers. I look at these people, dressed as if for summer, and I wonder how they can stand just walking in and out of the store. Some say, “You should be inside!” I don’t belong inside; I would bake in my layers, I wouldn’t be able to sing, and I probably couldn’t ring, either.
I have to carry a lot with me on the bus to work including a full thermos, a lunch to eat just before I start, a cozy blanket for when I am sitting on the colder days, toe and hand warmers, you name it. So I don’t take a book. I am used to reading on the bus. Ergo, I’m not getting my reading done. And—here’s where the real confession comes in—although I have no excuse about weight or volume at home, I have hardly read my Bible since I started the job this season. Normally I read some nearly every morning with breakfast. Now at that meal, I pore over my schedule book, address Christmas cards, make phone calls, whatever else I feel I need to do. I feel like the biblical Martha, a human doing rather than a human being, when I’m at home doing all these tasks. Only last Saturday and Sunday did I slow down. I found play even more necessary than sleep last night. I dinked around on the computer until about 4 in the morning, although I had to get up at 6:30 to get ready for church. Then, I brought a book on the bus, Norman Vincent Peale’s The Power Of Positive Thinking. And I actually read! I read about the importance of taking time to relax and to read some Bible.
The human being is alive from the depths of her heart at the kettle. My church has no choir, and I haven’t played my guitar in a long time; I lack the motivation to take up those songs I wrote long ago or write new ones when the guitar playing has become so rusty. But at the kettle, the person I most entertain is myself. What I lack in Bible reading, I make up for in worship. When the only reading I do is the lyrics in my song folder, I’m in my element. Some of the songs even make me cry—which is bad for singing, let me tell you. And my range is sometimes lacking, especially earlier in the day. Although “O Holy Night” is practically everyone’s favorite, I won’t attempt it before dark. But I can sing “I Want a Hippopotamus” anytime. “The Grinch Song” I don’t usually attempt because I’m afraid passersby might think I’m saying all those despicable things about them. Anyway, you get the idea.
If you want to read some of my reflections about Christmas songs, go to http://robinlayne.hubpages.com/hub/Cr.... It also features a picture of me at the kettle and a video of me singing my “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas” verses … complete with my daughter’s cat on my lap—until he, like my audience in front of the store, rushes off to other business.
Another confession: I did bring my draft of this post with me on the bus to edit. But since it’s not a book, it doesn’t really count as “reading,” does it? Just as writing short things like this while ignoring my novel-in-progress doesn’t count as “writing.”
The reason I have time to post this now is that my body very radically told me to take a break: The ankle I sprained prior to the beginning of my job acted up today and I had to skip working on what might be one of the best-yielding days of the season (the Saturday before Christmas). And if it’s not the ankle, it’s a knee. At least there were two volunteers today, from 10 to noon and from noon to 2.
I’d already arranged for a friend to pick up my Christmas food box today. Can you hazard a guess as to the source of this gift? Yep. The Salvation Army. Better than the food, to my mind, was flyer with a new rendition of the Lord’s Prayer:
Our Father in heaven,
Reveal who you are.
Set the world right;
Do what’s best—
As above, so below.
Keep us alive with three square meals,
Keep us forgiven with you
And forgiving others.
Keep us safe from ourselves and the evil one.
You’re in charge!
You can do anything you want!
You’re ablaze in beauty!
Yes. Yes. Yes.
AMEN
Okay . . . When it’s that potent a message, it doesn’t have to be a portion of a book. It counts as reading.
I will post a picture of myself at the kettle from a few years back in my Photos section.
I urge you also to “do the most good” in all your endeavors both during this season and all year long.
Merry Christmas to all, to all a good night, and peace through 2014!
The Richest Hidden Treasure (Finally in Print: My Article in the War Cry)
It wasn't until late January of this year that I received news that my article, "The Greatest Hidden Treasure," was published in War Cry, magazine of the Salvation Army. It's in the December 2017 issue. I wish I'd been told in November or even December so that I could have told everyone to get themselves a copy. Truth is, I waited so long without any response from the magazine that I was almost sure they had changed their minds about printing the story, even though they paid me $421.05 in July 2016.
It's by far the most I've ever been paid for my writing, and I was tickled pink at the article's acceptance. The editor said she wasn't sure which issue would feature the story, but I thought it would be December 2016, because it was chiefly about Christmas 2015. It concerns my adventures as a Salvation Army bell ringer. Because I didn't receive further correspondence after that hefty check, I called two Salvation Army offices before I found one that had the latest issue of War Cry, then I asked a worker to look through the magazine for my article. No dice.
I tried calling the female editor and only got the recording of a man's voice, and no callback. I emailed the editor, and also used the only online channels I could to reach someone in the organization. Nada.
I had been elated to mention the acceptance of my article by this famous magazine in my bio for The Writers' Mill Journal Volume 5. But for Volume 6, I had the editors remove that information. I had experienced a magazine acceptance in the past that was never printed "for lack of space." This could be the same thing all over again, though I thought it strange in this case because they paid me so much. (The other magazine only "paid in copies"--and it didn't help me to get paid in copies my work didn't appear in.) I didn't think an organization like the Salvation Army would throw money away. But to hear nothing from them... ? Was it possible the editor had been changed and my article and information lost?
Then, in winter of 2017, I received a round cardboard envelope addressed to "Robin Layne," which is my pen name (different from the name I use as a kettle worker). It was from Salvation Army national headquarters, a totally different address from the magazine's. Inside was a Christmas music CD.
I wrote a letter thanking the unnamed people at that office for the gift of the CD and then telling them of my problems regarding the article that was accepted. I went on with my bell ringing and my other job that is on Saturdays, trying not to wear myself to a frazzle making some extra money I needed.
Finally, in late January, I received a letter thanking me for my inquiry, apologizing for the lack of communication but not explaining it, and telling me the article was published in the previous months issue. The manila envelope included 5 sample copies of that magazine. It's a beaut! I'm happy with the presentation, but unpleasantly surprised to face the same problem I faced on staff of my college newspaper back when articles had to be re-typed by a typesetter who added technical errors to my article. Yep, even War Cry has them, including taking out some commas that changed the meaning of one passage. Their version: "People gave me some new nicknames this past season: Christmas angel even dwarf." What I'd written was, "Christmas, angel, even dwarf." Yes, there were kids who called me "Christmas."
I have been a kettle worker nearly every year for so many years I can't quite remember when I started. Although I got cold a lot, I love contributing to a cause that so many people believe in, greeting and cheering people up, and seeing how they feel about giving. Most of all, I love my own special touch: singing carols, hymns, and other songs as I ring. God has blessed me with an enjoyable voice, and generally that voice improves as the season wears on and I reacquaint myself with the songs. I sing a lot about the God I love, and to my delight, others love it. Normally I'm pretty shy and fearful when it comes to sharing my faith with people I don't know, a fact I am not proud of. But something in the music of Christmas turns the tables; I am at home beside the kettle, bundled up and belting it out.
The winter of 2015 was especially magical for me. On Christmas Eve, I learned something especially valuable was secretly dropped in my kettle. I held back tears of joy as a shopper showed me the news clipping on the front page of a local newspaper, and I thanked the Lord for His kind answers to prayer for the Salvation Army of my county, and for giving me this favor among generous people. I could scarcely believe that one of three gold coins was in my kettle!
The precious coin was not the main point of the article, I wrote, however. It became a metaphor for something much greater: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." (2 Corinthians 4:7 KJV) God is in me! Not because I've done anything to deserve it by any means, but because He invited me to ask Jesus in, and because He continues to fill me with His Holy Spirit.
The power of God isn't just latent in every follower of Christ; it is active and miraculous and transformative by nature. What else can you expect of God Himself? God is very much alive, and He is who He is!
God the Father is on His throne in Heaven, overlooking all that goes on in His beloved creation, it's true, but through God the Son He sent His Holy Spirit to earth, to dynamically change our world--in and through US! We need to have the courage to believe it and act accordingly. Only as we do so do we become His hands and feet on this earth and answer the prayer, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven." (Matthew 6:10 KJV)
"But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." (2 Corinthians 3:18 KJV)
It's by far the most I've ever been paid for my writing, and I was tickled pink at the article's acceptance. The editor said she wasn't sure which issue would feature the story, but I thought it would be December 2016, because it was chiefly about Christmas 2015. It concerns my adventures as a Salvation Army bell ringer. Because I didn't receive further correspondence after that hefty check, I called two Salvation Army offices before I found one that had the latest issue of War Cry, then I asked a worker to look through the magazine for my article. No dice.
I tried calling the female editor and only got the recording of a man's voice, and no callback. I emailed the editor, and also used the only online channels I could to reach someone in the organization. Nada.
I had been elated to mention the acceptance of my article by this famous magazine in my bio for The Writers' Mill Journal Volume 5. But for Volume 6, I had the editors remove that information. I had experienced a magazine acceptance in the past that was never printed "for lack of space." This could be the same thing all over again, though I thought it strange in this case because they paid me so much. (The other magazine only "paid in copies"--and it didn't help me to get paid in copies my work didn't appear in.) I didn't think an organization like the Salvation Army would throw money away. But to hear nothing from them... ? Was it possible the editor had been changed and my article and information lost?
Then, in winter of 2017, I received a round cardboard envelope addressed to "Robin Layne," which is my pen name (different from the name I use as a kettle worker). It was from Salvation Army national headquarters, a totally different address from the magazine's. Inside was a Christmas music CD.
I wrote a letter thanking the unnamed people at that office for the gift of the CD and then telling them of my problems regarding the article that was accepted. I went on with my bell ringing and my other job that is on Saturdays, trying not to wear myself to a frazzle making some extra money I needed.
Finally, in late January, I received a letter thanking me for my inquiry, apologizing for the lack of communication but not explaining it, and telling me the article was published in the previous months issue. The manila envelope included 5 sample copies of that magazine. It's a beaut! I'm happy with the presentation, but unpleasantly surprised to face the same problem I faced on staff of my college newspaper back when articles had to be re-typed by a typesetter who added technical errors to my article. Yep, even War Cry has them, including taking out some commas that changed the meaning of one passage. Their version: "People gave me some new nicknames this past season: Christmas angel even dwarf." What I'd written was, "Christmas, angel, even dwarf." Yes, there were kids who called me "Christmas."
I have been a kettle worker nearly every year for so many years I can't quite remember when I started. Although I got cold a lot, I love contributing to a cause that so many people believe in, greeting and cheering people up, and seeing how they feel about giving. Most of all, I love my own special touch: singing carols, hymns, and other songs as I ring. God has blessed me with an enjoyable voice, and generally that voice improves as the season wears on and I reacquaint myself with the songs. I sing a lot about the God I love, and to my delight, others love it. Normally I'm pretty shy and fearful when it comes to sharing my faith with people I don't know, a fact I am not proud of. But something in the music of Christmas turns the tables; I am at home beside the kettle, bundled up and belting it out.
The winter of 2015 was especially magical for me. On Christmas Eve, I learned something especially valuable was secretly dropped in my kettle. I held back tears of joy as a shopper showed me the news clipping on the front page of a local newspaper, and I thanked the Lord for His kind answers to prayer for the Salvation Army of my county, and for giving me this favor among generous people. I could scarcely believe that one of three gold coins was in my kettle!
The precious coin was not the main point of the article, I wrote, however. It became a metaphor for something much greater: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." (2 Corinthians 4:7 KJV) God is in me! Not because I've done anything to deserve it by any means, but because He invited me to ask Jesus in, and because He continues to fill me with His Holy Spirit.
The power of God isn't just latent in every follower of Christ; it is active and miraculous and transformative by nature. What else can you expect of God Himself? God is very much alive, and He is who He is!
God the Father is on His throne in Heaven, overlooking all that goes on in His beloved creation, it's true, but through God the Son He sent His Holy Spirit to earth, to dynamically change our world--in and through US! We need to have the courage to believe it and act accordingly. Only as we do so do we become His hands and feet on this earth and answer the prayer, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven." (Matthew 6:10 KJV)
"But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." (2 Corinthians 3:18 KJV)
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