A Little Christmas Spirit

I took my kids to McDonald's this morning for breakfast. I do this for two, and only two reasons: there is a Play Place where my boys can run freely and hoot and holler like the apes that they are, and my husband happens to run this particular store with the Play Place. Which means that my kids can do the aforementioned and most of the workers and several of the customers know who they are and don't complain. They actually tell me these boys are cute. They don't live with us.
A customer approached me while we were waiting in line (yes, we wait, like all the rest of the people despite our celebrity status). And I'm kidding about the celebrity status thing. Anyway, this customer was an older woman who promptly told me I am brave for taking my three children to a restaurant by myself. I did my usual half-smile, half-giggle thing that I do to try to make people think it's no big deal when really I'm thinking "I KNOW! This is crazy!" This lady says she had three girls, then three boys, and then two more girls. They are all grown now. My eyes widened and I swallowed hard and told her she was the one who was brave. So, she proceeds to order and pay, and then turns to me and shoves a fistful of cash at my free hand (the other one is holding the infant seat). I was shocked, flooded with thoughts "do I look really poor and awful?" "Does she think I can't pay to feed these kids?" I didn't know what to say, other than to try and politely decline the money. I tried and she said that she really just wanted me to take it and buy the kids breakfast. I didn't know whether to feel humiliated or just to accept it and smile. I chose a little bit of both. Bev, the cashier at the time, just kind of stood there and smiled, observing the whole scenario...and she didn't charge me for my food anyway, which is pretty typical when we go to my husband's store. So I told myself I'd "pay it forward." Suddenly everyone around me became a potential "victim." A scrawny old man in a much-too-thin sweater buying a senior citizen's coffee, I thought, would be the first one I helped. I gave the cashier a couple dollars and told her to give him a breakfast sandwich too. He got his coffee and was handed the sandwich, and he looked confused. The cashier looked at me nervously and then back at him, and a smile broke out over her face and she told him "must be elves that made this for you." He chuckled and took his hot coffee and sandwich to his little table alone. This felt good. As we walked with our tray to the Play Place, my son Isaac asked me if he could have some of the money. I started to tell him no, but then I thought "what the hey"and gave him $3. We were going to Walmart next, he could buy some candy for himself and his brother.
As we sat down to eat, he said "Mom, I saw that you bought that man's sandwich. He looked really happy." I told him I thought so too. He then said "I know there's lots of people everywhere that would be happy to have someone buy them stuff." Again, I agreed with the child. He then suggested that we buy a little toy at Walmart and put it in one of the Toys for Tots boxes on the way out, and I thought it would be a wonderful idea. I was very proud of him...considering he is usually belly-aching about getting something for himself before we even leave for the store.
We did just as he suggested. The boys decided on a Transformer toy and we took it to the checkout with our groceries. As I pulled the rest of the money out of my wallet, I decided to see just how far my son's charity stretched today, and I said "Do you want to use the money I gave you, too?" He looked at me, perplexed. He scrunched his eyebrow, just one of them, and said "No, mom, but I am gonna do something good with it, just wait." I scrunched my eyebrow back at him and nodded my head.
As we walked out of the store, we dropped our toy in the box. Isaac started digging in his pocket. "No, buddy," I said, "you don't put money in the box."
"I'm not, Mom, hold on."
He ran ahead of me, and just as I started to scream at him for taking off without me, I saw what he was doing. He headed straight for the Salvation Army Bell Ringer, a big bearded man. I hurried forward and heard this child's words spoken softly but crystal clear: "I have $3 to put in your bucket to help someone who needs it. Have a Merry Christmas. God bless you." I couldn't believe my ears. It was the single-most precious moment I've ever experienced with this child, who is normally boisterous and loud, and has an ongoing, year round list of things he wants for himself. But today, I'd like to think he was moved by the Christmas spirit...and I'm sure I'll never forget it.