I fumbled in my wallet for a bill, my fingers a little numb
from the frosty air. The man ringing the
bell flashed me a smile and waited patiently for me to drop it into the red
kettle. “God bless you, my friend,” he
said. I thanked him for what he was doing,
grateful he’d given me the chance to bless someone else in this special
season.
This is my first Christmas in Potomac. It’s only been a few weeks since my family
and I moved here from Virginia so I could begin serving as the pastor of Saint
Francis Church in the middle of the village.
But like many of you, I’ve been dropping money in those kettles for
years. It was a comforting sight to see
the ringer and the kettle outside the Giant last Saturday. “The Salvation
Army,” I thought to myself, “they’re here, too.
They make Christmas feel a little more like Christmas, and this town
feel a little more like home.”
