The Salvation Army's bell-ringing bucket brigade has once again invaded the city soliciting donations from passerbys in the buildup to Christmas. It's not an easy gig, which I happen to know first-hand after being sent out to spend a day in their shoes a few years ago while working for a different newspaper.
As far as going undercover for a story goes, the assignment wasn't exactly up there with infiltrating, say, the Red Scorpions or an al-Qaeda sleeper cell in terms of danger, but there's still an inherent risk to life and limb that comes with standing around in the open with a giant bowl of cash while armed only with tinkly bells. Which is quite possibly why my editor asked me to do it in the first place.
Although it's rare, kettle keepers do occasionally get mugged, which is sort of ironic given that the perps are likely the very sort of people the Sally Ann go out of their way to help out in the first place. But if the hand that feeds sometimes get bitten in the process, members of the evangelical Christian charity have learned to take it in stride. (The Lord reportedly moves in mysterious ways, after all.) The only moments of discomfort I personally experienced, aside from somewhat sore muscles from standing in the cold for four hours, were the kind that comes from hitting up complete strangers for money.
It was an eye-opener how the sight of the iconic red kettle and the jingling of the bells (the inspiration, incidentally, for the classic Christmas song Silver Bells) can inspire such diverse reactions. For a lot people, the response is an immediate digging into the pockets for coins or bills. Many made a point of telling me they'd already given to one of the other kettles dotted throughout the city or at least that they regularly donate to charity in other ways, while plenty of others took the opportunity to share with me the details of their personal relationships with God.
Others, however, would instead stare straight ahead to avoid making eye contact, pretending to not even see or hear me, and it provided a glimpse into what life must be like for panhandlers. It was also strange how a cheerful greeting of "Merry Christmas" can instead sound like a plea for spare change. Which, of course, it was.
It hasn't been a great year for the Sally Ann. They're not exactly known for their progressive views on gay rights, and a recent inside job that stole $2 million in donated toys didn't do their public image as selfless Christians much good either, but MoneySense's annual ranking of Canada's 10 biggest charities nonetheless gives them an overall score of B-.
