Julien's Journal December 2016 (Volume 41, Number 12) | Page 34

FEATURES

Salvation
Angel

M
by Louie Winslow

y father was in his middle forties when I was born in 1941, the
last of five children. Most of my friends had fathers who fought
in WWII, but he fought in WWI.
Shortly after the US declared war on Germany, my dad enlisted.
He served in France and fought in four major battles being
awarded the Purple Heart with Oak Leaf Cluster. Although he never told me much about
his wartime experiences, I know from what little he did say that he had a rough time.
One of the organizations he admired and respected was the Salvation Army. Dad told
me, “They were always there for us and provided us with free coffee and donuts.”
I retired from 3M 15 years ago and have done volunteering for various charitable
organizations. For the past several, I have been a Salvation Army bell ringer. I ring
in memory of my dad and it is a very rewarding and uplifting experience. Every day
I ring brings me joy, but last year the second time I rang turned out to be special. On
that day, I rang at the Stillwater, MN Walmart.
I like when the weather turns nasty because people are more generous and often say,
“Good for you!” or “Aren’t you cold?”
32  ❖  Julien’s Journal 

On this day, I got my wish. A cold front
had arrived, a stiff wind blew from the
west, and the temperature was thirty
degrees and dropping. I dressed in layers,
but cold air still managed to crawl down
my neck.
It is always heartening to see how
giving people are and this day was no
exception. Many people dropped money
into the kettle as they entered the store.
They would smile and say, “Thanks for
ringing.”
This only heightened my joy. I would
respond, “The Salvation Army is a great
organization and was my dad’s favorite
charity.”
About fifteen minutes into my two-hour
stint, a couple drove up and parked in
the crosswalk before the entrance. The
woman in the passenger seat jumped out
and said to me, “I hope you are a Vikings’
fan.” She handed me a fleece neck muff
emblazoned with Viking Symbols. “Put
this on, it’s cold out here.”
I took it and slipped it over my head.
She smiled, waved good-bye, and jumped
back into the car. Within minutes my
neck warmed up and a surge of gratitude
for the woman’s generosity brought an
inner warmth.
About 45 minutes later, a tall stylish
woman with a black ankle length coat
on put a ten-dollar bill in the kettle and
handed me a small gift wrapped box
with Ken and Barbie written on the top.
I grinned and she returned my smile. I
thanked her and put it into my pocket.
I wondered what was in it, but resisted
opening it until I got home.
Sometime later, an older, gray-haired
man came up and said, “You look like
you could use a cup of coffee.” He didn’t
put any money in the kettle and walked
into the store. “That is the last I’ll see of
him,” I thought to myself. Fifteen minutes
later he was back with a steaming cup
of java. He also bought two creamers,
a sugar packet, and a stirring stick. He
asked, “How is it going?”
I responded, “Thanks for the coffee.