Holiday Free Store

Day 77

Lee from Operation Give Back gathers up us volunteers who are working today’s holiday free store.  At over six feet, he’s an imposing African American man with a huge toothy smile.  Part cheerleader, part motivational speaker, it’s impossible not to get excited listening to him. 

“Let’s make this the best shopping experience they have all year!” he says.  His speech is met by a splattering of applause and widespread head nodding.   

Shoppers have been waiting in the frigid temperatures for over an hour to get in.  For $5, they receive a $5 Kroger gift card and can “shop” the holiday free store.  Families qualify for the store by living below the national poverty level.  

I’ve been assigned to help as a personal shopper.  This means I accompany one family through the store at a time and find things off their list, a detailed accounting of things they are allowed to “shop” for based on their family size and number of children living in their household. 

Each shopper is limited to 30 minutes.  As a personal shopper, I also need to gentle push to make sure we make it around to all the areas before time runs out.  

My first customer is a single mother of five.  Shana, her 12-year-old daughter, and I move forward into the crowded warehouse.  Non-perishable food.  Toilet paper.  Tissue.  Shoes.  Clothes.  Each family gets a blanket.  Every child gets a coat. 

I can tell Shana, warm and friendly, is the type of mom who gives lots of hugs.  We talk easily about her kids.  She’s clearly a proud momma. 

“What size boys’ shoes do we need?” I ask. 

“My boys are big,” she smiles.  “Size 15.” 

“Shana,” I laugh.  “I don’t even know what size 15 looks like!”  There’s nothing close to fitting her 6 foot 4 son so we move on to women’s clothes. 

In a back corner, items fill three tables.  It’s here kids may shop for presents for their parents. 

“I’ll block your mom so she can’t see what you pick out,” I say, pointing Shana’s daughter towards the parent gift table.  I hold up two fingers.  "Pick two," I mouth.   In the back, two Sycamore High School students wrap presents that kids choose. 

Shana seems thrilled about the idea of a wrapped present for herself on Christmas morning.  With five kids, I wonder how many years she’s done without. 

Shana and I turn a corner and continue to fill her cart to the point of overflowing.  Socks.  Scarfs.  Shampoo.  Conditioner.  Razors. 

We stop at the toys.  “Each child gets one small, one medium and one large.”  New board games, LEGO kits, footballs and Barbie dolls line the walls.    

Shana reaches over and gives me a hug.  “I’m never going to forget this,” she says. 

Me either.   

Filler Up

Day 76

I dislike filling up for gas when it’s cold outside.  I amend.  I hate it. 

I don’t have gloves and I’m dreading the feeling of flesh touching metal, but my gas light glows red. 

Unfortunately, I need to fill up.  Now.  Or prepare to push.  

I turn into Shell and pull forward until my gas tank is level with the nozzle.

I punch in my Kroger number to receive my 10-cent-per-galloon discount.  Then I swipe my debit card.  Man, it’s cold.  Each transaction only prolongs my time outside. 

I pick up the nozzle.  Nothing.  I place the nozzle back in its home and pick it up again.  Nothing.  I punch the gas grade button.  Nothing. 

It only takes another nozzle and two more button pushes to accept that the pump isn’t working.   

I pull forward and start over. 

A car pulls up behind me into the stall that I just vacated.

I turn and jog over to her car.  “Before you get out of your car,” I start, “the pump’s not working.” 

She rolls down her window.  “Thanks for telling me.  Gosh, it’s cold out here.”   

You’re telling me.  

Baking Soda, Anyone?

Day 75

“How much? One cup?” 

“Two.” 

The girl scooped up the flour.  With the measuring cup half full, she poured it into the glass mason jar.

“Another?” 

“Sure.” 

This time her “measured” cup was a heaping mountain of flour.  In it went. 

As a baker, helping the third graders build “cookie kits” as presents during their holiday party was a little more than distressing.  I tried to coach kids on filling the measuring cups up to the top and leveling them before adding them to the jar. It didn’t work. 

One girl dropped (at my count) three tablespoons of baking soda into her mix when ¼ teaspoon was required.

After the third child, I gave up.  Instead, I kept up a constant chatter of “Looks great!  Yum!  Who’s getting that one?  Lucky!”

While maybe not edible, the jars were adorable. Layers of flour, brown sugar, white sugar, and green and red candies made a colorful design inside the jar. The room mom printed recipe tags to tie to the jar’s top with ribbon.

Covered with flour and sugar, they enjoyed themselves.  More than one enjoyed a stray M and M that missed a jar and landed on the table.   

The kids had been instructed to wash their hands before starting but I didn’t see if they had or not.  With all the ingredients inside the jar, the last group through our station smashed everything down with their fingers before adding M and Ms.

  

I turned to a friend standing next to me, “What do you think these are going to taste like?” 

I was trying not to think sweaty fingers.