Ringing Bells

Bell ringers.....we see a lot of them these days. I always feel so confounded guilty when I go by a red kettle and don't drop something into it. But....when shopping...one goes from store to store and there are kettles everywhere. The last time I was at the shopping area in Merrillville I threw money in the first kettle I saw. There are good bell ringers and poor ones. The poor ones stand ringing the bell, that is all. The good ones........many of those of African American descent....not only ring the bell but interact with the people. "Good morning.....God bless you....Enjoy a blessed Christmas" and on and on. How can one turn down those beautiful bright smiles and kind words. Pretty soon, I started to say, "I have already given today". The response is usually gracious but I can just feel them wonder, "Is she scamming me or what?" So, today I am going to Merrillville. I think I'll take a roll of quarters and then I can put a handful in my pocket and drop some in each kettle. Good idea, Gayle.

We are frustrated with another type of bell ringing at our house. We have been plagued with ring bys. Not drive bys but ring bys. Someone is coming into our yard after dark...runs past our front door and gives the door bell a couple of good pushes and then runs away. Our front door bell rarely rings and when it does it is usually the Fed Ex man or the UPS man. Most family and friends don't ring the bell, they usually just allow themselves in. So, when we are trying to relax during an evening, we are running to the door in response to the ring of interruption. Last evening it was three times. I was gone the second and third time but I was told that Isaiah ran out into the yard the third time and found the neighbor boys outside and in our yard. They claimed they were also trying to catch the ringer of bells. We suspect it was those boys. Now, my dilemma. Do I call the parents there and ask if our suspicions could be correct or do I wait it out in hopes of catching them red handed. I don't want to cause any trouble but I am sick of running to the door. The other troublesome thing is that we live in a bi-level and our family room windows are sidewalk high. That means that they can be watching us sit in our easy chairs. That doesn't feel real good either. Last night we resorted to closing the blinds in a way that is impossible to see through. Kinda gives one the hibby jibbies.

Not sure what my course of action or nonaction will be. It sure would be great fun to be hiding out somewhere that I could grab a kid in action. I wonder if that could land me in legal trouble? Oh well, it would be worth the fun. I even thought of standing somewhere with a gun in my hand. Really I did. We don't have one other than an old rifle that is forty years old and was a gift to Ken one Christmas from my parents. That may look a bit McCoyish. All kinds of thoughts of grandeur have passed through this messed up head. Just because of the breach of peace in my own home.

I'll let you in on how it all turns out. Probably won't be as exciting as it could be.



Update....when I walked into the sun room a few minutes ago, I heard the homeschoolers from next door outside playing in the snow. I opened a window and yelled a boy's name. I couldn't see him very clearly but he stopped and said, "Me?" I said are you Gregory? Yes....okay then I'd like you to meet me at my back door. He dutifully tromped through the snow and came up our back stairs. I invited him in to stand on the rug. Just the cutest kid. I asked, "Gregory, are you our culprit?" Without skipping a beat he asked, "For ringing your bell or writing the bad words in the snow?" I answered that I wondered about both things. He said, "I didn't write the words in the snow". But did you ring the bell? Yes, once. He gave me the name of a friend who was the bigger culprit. I told Greg that I wouldn't tell his parents because he had been honest with me by admitting his guilt. But, Greg has to see that the friend visits me tonight after school. Even though I had visions of justice, I just melt when I'm with kids, even naughty kids. My punishment for him was not the sight of a gun but a big hug as he left the house. I guess that would be a lot closer to the mind of Christ, eh?