I got an email Wednesday from a reader I didn’t know. He has two tickets to the Carolina Panthers-New Orleans Saints game Sunday and wanted to offer them to a child (and parent or adult) who otherwise wouldn’t be able to go.
Could I help find such a child?
I told him that two Carolina Panthers I know have foundations, one established, one new. The players work hands-on with the people they serve. I’ve watched them. They’d probably know somebody.
I also recommended a charity with which I’m familiar that does great work. The group could identify a child who would love to go.
The reader chose the latter. I gave a name and phone number, and he thanked me. No. I thank you.
If you do what I do for a living, the Panthers-Saints game can be consuming. But the Panthers have played other consuming games and likely will some more.
The season, not football season, is singular. And if I do it right, if I’m sufficiently aware and appreciative, it can lift me.
The reader could have sold the tickets for much more than he paid for them. The tickets are his and he can do with them what he wants. He wants to offer them to a young boy or girl he’s never met.
I praised him in a return email. He said he couldn’t take credit, that it was his wife’s idea.
So I praised her.
Although the act is small, that’s what the season is, a series of acts, many of them small.
Bring the unused coat to the clothing drive. Volunteer. Take some of the money you were going to spend on gifts and give it to an organization that needs it more. Smile. Acknowledge the man ringing the bell in front of Harris-Teeter and stuff a couple dollars into the pot in front of him. Slow down.
The most desirable destination in Charlotte on Sunday will be Bank of America Stadium. Allow a kid to be part of it.