Starting at the Anti-Cruelty Society, we shared some love with the dogs and cats waiting to find their new families (in case you’re looking for some cuddly company, there are many precious pets to visit).
We then walked along State Street with cups of hot cocoa (loaded with marshmallows and calories), and drifted in and out of stores, gazing all the while like little kids at the shimmering lights and sparkling spheres that shone along every step.
Find out what's happening in Barringtonwith free, real-time updates from Patch.
A chilly rain tried its best to dampen our spirits (no umbrella!), but I dashed into a store and picked up a pink Santa hat covered in pink sequins (who doesn’t need one of those?). It kept me warm and dry, and definitely added to the holiday fun.
Twice during our day of carefree merriment, we were gifted with heartwarming reminders to enjoy life, and to cherish family and friends.
Find out what's happening in Barringtonwith free, real-time updates from Patch.
The first instance came in an unusual spot – a crowded cafeteria in a department store. Amid rows and rows of exhausted shoppers, over-stuffed shopping bags and lots of designer labels, a man sat alone. He had white hair, a white beard, and a hint of a twinkle in his eyes. You might be imagining the store Santa on his break, but you would be wrong.
From the frayed fabric of his shirt, the soiled spot on his pant leg, and the well-worn shoes, it was clear this man was experiencing hard times. Still, he sat with a smile, clearly savoring his trial-size cup of coffee and slice of pizza. While we girls slowly finished our beverages, my husband started talking with his elderly neighbor. As we got up from the table and joined my husband, I heard the man say “keep positive and always remember that tomorrow is a new day.” We all shook his hand, feeling quite humble.
Later, I learned that this gentleman had once led a “normal” life, working every day and enjoying spending his off-hours with his wife in their home in a Chicago suburb. Then, his wife died. While he was at the funeral, his home was robbed. He lost his job, and things went down from there. While telling his tale, he didn’t complain once, and was grateful to have a warm spot to stay every night. He asked my husband how he was doing, offering that sympathetic ear that instantly draws out your inner-most concerns and somehow soothes them. That led to the words of comfort, and my joy at witnessing this gem of humanity.
The second helping of holiday spirit was delivered via a letter to Santa, which hadn’t quite yet made it to the official red postbox. The letter asked for some games, but ended by declaring the author's belief in Christmas, and that it’s not about getting, it’s about giving love and happiness. Out of the mouths of babes! I posted the letter, so Santa will be sure to attend to the child’s modest request.
