A few minutes ago, I heard the creak of our storm door open and then a weak knock on the door itself. I had just finished feeding the beanster and didn’t feel like padding over to check who it was, especially because I didn’t feel like dealing with door-to-door sales folks. (No, I do not want to buy fifty pounds of steak, thank you. No, I do not want you to trim my trees, thank you. No, I do not want to accept your religious tract, thank you.) It’s a gray, cold, and dreary day, though, so I thought maybe it was something more important than your typical sales pitch.
I carried Little Bean to the door because babies are always a good out when you don’t want to talk to someone, and I peered through the half-circle window. It was a little boy. I opened the door.
“Here’s your candle,” he announced, reaching a small brown box out to me. “Have a good day!” And then he wandered off down the street in his rain coat, probably chilled to the bone, poor thing.
He was delivering the fundraiser items he’d sold a few weeks ago.
I looked at this little box. It was definitely the candle I’d ordered–I’d requested “bourbon” scented, and it was quite fragrant–but it was much, much smaller than I expected it to be.
I had, after all, paid $18 for it.
Eighteen dollars for a candle!
But alas. All for a good cause, right?
And by good cause, I don’t mean the local middle school’s band program, though that’s where the funds went.
I mean the kid who trudged all over the neighborhood–twice.
I am a sucker for kids selling things to raise money. I frequently buy those $1 candy bars, for example, even when they only have kinds left that I really don’t want to eat (and I do it without lecturing them about blood chocolate, to boot). I bought a handmade key chain for some little girl’s cheerleading squad or dance team or who knows what. I’ve bought those little cards that give you discounts for various restaurants and stores around town if you ever remember to carry them with you. Last week, I bought a huge bin of chocolate-caramel-covered popcorn to support the Cub Scouts, primarily because it was being sold by the tiniest cub scout I’ve ever seen who was salivating over the popcorn options as I decided what to buy.
Oh, and I apparently buy ridiculously overpriced small candles.
But that’s okay.
I like these kiddos, and somehow it seems like this is what we do in community.
We answer our door.
What do you do when neighborhood kids come to your door?