Ok, "hate" may be a bit of an exaggeration. My disdain is certainly not directly aimed at Jesus' birthday, or even jolly old St. Nick. It's more of an expectation vs. reality problem.
Today's rant will focus on charity-itis. You know that irritated sensation of being dried up and stretched too thin, then breaking out in a rash of guilt? Can't seem to shake it this season.
I am being solicited by easily 10 people or organizations a day, not counting my adorable, present-mongering children. (Or the pathetic roadside "I have 5 kids & no job" sign beggars. Don't get me started on that uncomfortable topic.) They're generally worthy or interesting causes. Here's a selection from the past 3 days, in no particular order:
- Edwardsburg Food Pantry
- Aerial Photography Association
- Toys for Tots
- Center for the Homeless
- Granger Community Church "Let It Be Christmas" Program
- St. Jude's Children's Hospital
- JC Penny Afterschool Fund
- The Salvation Army
- The Lion's Club
- United Way Adopt-A-Family
- St. Vincent de Paul Society
- Snowflakes for Seniors
- United Health Services
- Care International
All fabulous, right? Now what? I feel like I'm dealing with a crowd of demanding kids. I have to put on my stern no-&-I-mean-it face and start proving my selfishness to the world. No, I do not have spare change for you, perky bell ringer. No, I will not write a little check right now and change a child's life. No, I don't think anyone wants my 2 year old canned green beans. No, no, no! (Guilt, remorse, guilt!)
So, any good strategies out there for navigating the Holiday Season of Giving?! I think my limbs are going to start getting green and furry like a certain Seussical Christmas hater soon!
1 comment:
Last year I went to Hot Topic at the mall to buy my cousin a Phinneus and Ferb t-shirt. That store is full of trashy/ghetto/delinquent stuff (not all, but a lot). The perky, pierced cashier says, "Would you like to donate $1 to our After School Youth Program?" I look around at the shirts showing Tupac brandishing an Uzi, and say, "No thanks." And THEN I walk four doors down and buy a hat from Finish Line. "Would you like to donate $1 to our ______?" "No thanks." And the cashier ACTUALLY said to me, in a totally crappy voice, "It's only a dollar."
I totally get what you're saying.
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