“Here are 10 envelopes”
Jim was of the most interesting men I have ever known. He was born and raised in the coal mining area of eastern Kentucky, Clay County. His father was a coal miner, deep mines. His mother was a stay-at-home mother to Jim and his six younger siblings. His childhood was shaped by the economy that surrounded the mining of coal. When times were good, they were very good; resulting in personal comforts and plenty of things to meet the needs of the family. When things were bad, they were very bad; marked by a lack of everything including food, clothing, and proper shelter. Jim’s father died when Jim was in his middle teens due to “black lung”. Because the family was dependent upon the father’s earnings, Jim dropped out of school, got a job with a “strip mining” coal company, in order to help support the family.
By the time I got to know Jim he was married, with two daughters, living in eastern Tennessee. He was working as a broker for one of the coal companies in the area. Jim was a man that stood around 6’ 2”, weighing about 250 pounds. Most of the time he wore a wonderful smile on his face. He was friendly, easily likable, humorous, and one of the most generous people I have ever known. Due to his success, he was always ready to give money, buy whatever might be needed, financially support a worthy cause, and do whatever else he could to help improve the lives of others. There was one very important fact about Jim’s giving; he desired to do it anonymously. He always desired to give, as often and as much as he could, without anyone knowing where the gift came from.
I came to know him when I became the minister of the church in the town where he was living. He was serving the church as a Deacon. He was anxious to see and help the church grow and serve the folks living in the community. He was very supportive of all of the various programs and efforts the church. His wife and he were faithful in their attendance, readily offering words of encouragement and love. They were generous in their financial backing as well. Interestingly, they gave some serious money to the church but they never wanted to receive any acknowledgement in anyway, including refusing any report that they could use for income tax reports.
A few days before Christmas, my first year as the minister of the church, I heard someone open the office door of the church and enter. Since I was there alone, I got up to go see if I could help the person that had entered. I found Jim standing in the hallway outside of my study. I invited him in. He entered and we sat down for a chat. During the conversation he told me his story. He did so with evidenced humility. He then reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out some envelopes, bound by a rubber band, and handed them to me. As I took them from him he said, “Larry. Here are 10 envelopes. I want you to give them as you see fit to those whom you think can use them during this Christmas season. I do not care how you distribute them or how they are used. The only thing I care about is that you never tell anyone where they came from.” With those words he left my office.
I glanced in one of the envelopes so that I might know what was in them. Each of the 10 envelopes had a new $100 bill in them. As requested, I gave them to people with a variety of needs that I encountered during the days following his visit. I honored his request by never telling anyone where the money came from.
I served the church for nearly 9 years. Each Christmas season he stopped by to see me with the words, “Here are 10 envelopes”.