Charity begins...

.... at Christmas? I usually give all my small change to the Red Cross and there's quite a lot of it because I can't add up or take away fluently whilst holding a conversation so all prices in the shop are whole or half pounds and anything copper coloured goes in the interestingly shaped Red Cross box which empties out at around £20+ every month or so. I like the Red Cross because they offer help in disaster zones regardless of race, colour or creed and won't wittingly place any religious books on their shelves to avoid giving offence. This time of year, with so many Charities rattling boxes or dropping in to catch me sitting at my desk I usually send them on their way with those thoughts because the cash tin isn't THAT bottomless even this blessed week. However I do get caught by my own sentimental nostalgia and the rattle of tambourines outside Tesco had me slipping a tenner to the Sally Army (the Salvo to our antipodean mates) for my dad, and another into the Dr. Barnardo's box for taking in my half-brother whose latest letter about what it meant to him to find me and therebye get to know about our dad, had me in tears this morning.