(93) 'The Joy of Giving'

[Ken]

This is a tale about kindness in all its many forms, it's about fair play and the pleasure that one gets from doing the right thing, but most of all it's about the joy of giving and how marvellous a simple act of generosity can make one feel.

I have often said that true generosity is giving what you don't want to give and an example of this can be found on page 210 of the book, 'Proud to be a Tuffs,' written by my nephew, Peter Tuffs.  It tells of his father, and my eldest brother, Wally, and it was told to him by my sister Violet.  It's about what happened during the paper round job the young Wally had from his eleventh birthday onwards, and it tells of the kindness one of his customers showed to a lad he obviously liked. This occurred every Friday during those austere pre war years of the latter half of the 1930's, and it took the form of a weekly gift of a small bar of chocolate.  Be honest with yourself, what would you have done with that chocolate bar if you were that scruffy young lad from a financially poor family?  The probable answer, if you're at all like I was at that age, is immediately devour it.  However, that was not the way the young Wally Tuffs thought or acted. He'd always take the chocolate home so he could share it with his younger siblings.   Violet and the others soon came to know that every Friday night there'd be treat waiting for them at their Longacre Cottage home.  I can imagine the anticipation they'd all have as they awaited the rare taste of the chocolate they were about to enjoy.  I can picture the young Wally as he fairly divided that small bar into pieces and shared it equally amongst those he loved.  That was the truest act of generosity I have ever known, for my eldest brother was almost certainly giving what he didn't want to give.  How proud his parents must have been of their first born's moral code.  What an inspiration he was and what a wonderful role model for us all.

I cannot claim any act of kindness to compare to such selflessness but I can tell you how, by giving something to others, I have also given much to myself.  I can remember many times in the 1970's when, around Guy Fawkes night, I'd be leaving various train stations and hear a child saying, "Penny for the Guy Mister?"  I'd always take out and offer them the requested penny and then, by using some sleight of hand trickery, change it into a fifty pence piece.  That was like giving them a five pound note in today's money and the look of delight on those young faces was wonderful. I've long been a believer in passing on a kindness and that goes back to a  frosty December night when I was singing, 'Good King Wenceslas,' at this rather grand front door.  A jovial man opened it and invited my friends and I in and his smiling wife gave us all a mince pie.  We were only in our early teens and he astonished us by handing us all a glass of sherry to drink. He was obviously having some kind of pre Christmas drinks party and he and his guests encouraged us to carry on singing. All of them joined in as we did so and we were probably there for thirty of the happiest  minutes I'd ever known. When we left, we couldn't believe the amount of money they had given us and it was something I never forgot.  I vowed that one day I'd be as kind as they'd been and years later, when I also owned a house with an impressive front door, I was able to be so.    I was simply passing on a kindness and I always ensured that any carol singers who called at my house, struck gold!

I hope that my siblings children also believe in passing kindnesses on and I suspect many do.  I recently received a delightful email from my niece Nicola where she mentioned her Christmas visits to our house. She described the laughter filled games we'd play and, in her words, "so many little gifts that were both funny and thoughtful."  My reward always came from the look of pleasure on the receivers face for it always made me feel good.  I can still recall the pleasure I'd felt when I'd given a huge box of super hero DC comics to my nephew Robert Gibson.  I'd collected them over many of my early teenage years  and the box was was full to the brim.  It contained amongst others, adventures of, The Flash, The Green Lantern and, of course,  the mighty Superman.  There would have been none featuring Batman, for he was never super enough for my vivid imagination.  I once gave a scrapbook to my young next door neighbour, Brian Kelsey and I recall his delight.  It was packed full of the fronts of the countless matchboxes that I'd once collected.  On another occasion I gave the same lad the large birds egg collection that I'd amassed, sadly, in those long ago days, our generation still did such stupid things as collect birds eggs.  I remember fondly how  the young Kevin Tuffs would mysteriously appear on his bicycle to say, "Hello Uncle Ken."  This would occur around the time I was walking between the Red Lion and the Bricklayers Arms on a Friday evening. We'd have a little chat and I'd happily watch him cycle off with a smile, richer by a couple of quid.  

I loved the fact that for a while I was in a position to indulge my love of sharing my good fortune.  I wonder if any of the Heaphy children can recall the Sunday I turned up for lunch and brought their father, Bill, a gift.  It was a truly enormous bottle of Whisky, I know not the size but I knew Bill enjoyed the occasional tipple of Scotch.  The smile that came on his face as he beheld its enormity was worth every penny I'd spent and, all day, Bill kept rewarding me by picking up that bottle and chuckling happily to himself.  My position in SupaSports also enabled me to, on occasion, play the Good Samaritan.  I remember buying thousands of stunt kites to sell in my shops and the company concerned presented me with a giant version for my own use.  This King of Kites would have been far to expensive to go on sale but my driver and I still eagerly set off to try it out.  Before long we were flying it above the beautiful Pewley Downs and I was using the simple duel control strings to make this deluxe Kite soar majestically.  The small crowd who had gathered to watch my skills eventually dwindled until just one lad, aged about ten, remained.  He said an eager, "Yes please," when I asked him if he'd like a go and, before long, he was controlling the kite better than I could.   I took out one of my SupaSports business cards and wrote on the back of it,  "I gave this Kite to your son, if in doubt, phone me." The look of sheer disbelief on the lads face when I told him he could keep the kite was a moment I'll always treasure. "Really," he asked in an incredulous voice, as I handed him the business card to give to his Dad. I didn't want his parents worrying about strange men giving children gifts, or to think he'd stolen the Kite. I do know that on that day I got as close as I ever will to knowing how good Father Christmas must feel!

I also had the good fortune to be the recipient of peoples kindnesses when, for a time, I too became financially poor. One example was when my last means of playing music broke and I was without a cassette or a record player. Life without music was for me unthinkable.  My friend and all round good egg, Chris Bushell, was not happy when he discovered this situation during his next visit, perhaps he'd actually enjoyed my collection of time warp classics. However he solved the problem, just three weeks later, by once again driving the 200 mile journey from his home to ours.  I recall as if it was yesterday his arrival for his persona was different and Chris was visibly excited.  All became clear when he carried into our lounge a large box that he took to the spot where our record player had once stood.  Our children, Kathryn and Morgan, together with Jenny and I then watched as our smiling friend unpacked a brand new cassette/record player.  Within minutes a Del Shannon record was on the turntable and a beaming Chris set it in motion and music returned to the Tuffs household.  On that long ago day four people experienced the joy of receiving and Chris received, something impossible to value, the  joy of giving.  My friend values his money as much as the next man and I have heard some people wrongly describe him as 'careful.'   But the pleasure he derived from giving us that music system was a grand thing to see.  He may have had less money in his wallet but that act of love and kindness made him richer by far!

In 1983 my brother Bob hired the Shamley Green Village hall, he'd also booked a band, and organised some suitable food. There was a bar to serve the one hundred guests that he he'd invited and they'd been told he'd stand the cost of every single drink.  The occasion coincided with Bob's fiftieth birthday but that wasn't the main purpose of the evening. The reason was my hero brothers well known trait for always playing a straight bat, for always being fare, and always doing the right thing.  I recall thinking how admirable he was as he spoke to his guests, saying that over the years he been to many of their weddings.  He went on to say how much he had enjoyed their hospitality and added, because he had never married, he'd been unable to repay their kindnesses to him.  So that was what that evening was about, Bob repaying and passing on a kindness, and so he told his guests to eat, drink, and be merry.  That's what everyone did.  I know that the evening cost Bob the equivalent of twenty five hundred pounds in today's money, which was a lot of money to spend.  A lesser man may have preferred to see that money earn some interest, or even watch it gather dust as it lay hidden in the corner of a cellar or attic. Bob Tuffs, however, always paid his way.  Not one of his one hundred guests needed to be told that though, they already knew.

For some reason this particular list of Cosy memories has been important to me.  If it inspires just one person to forget the profit eBay offers and, instead, take pleasure in giving something away, it's been worth the writing.  I'll finish with a memory from the late 1970's.  I'd been on the phone to my sign writer, Malcolm Scott, to see if my signs were ready and, during our conversation, I'd discovered it was his son, Duncan's, birthday.  On the way over to collect my signs I decided to call into a toy shop and I purchased a box full of miniature Cowboys for the lad.  As they were being gift wrapped, I spied another box, this one full of miniature Red Indians, so I decided to buy those as a gift for Duncan's younger brother, Ali.  Later, I got a buzz from seeing the pleasure of the birthday boy as he unwrapped his surprise gift and a bonus from the delight of the four year old Ali as he unwrapped his.  I didn't know back then how close our two families would become as the years passed, but perhaps that simple act of consideration played it's part in cementing our friendship through thick and thin.  I know for sure it pleased the children's parents, who in time showed unbelievable kindness to my family.  

Fast forward some twenty years and we find those two lads are now our trusted friends.  Around this time Ali went on holiday to Turkey and he saw the locals playing a game called, 'Okey.' which fascinated him.  It involves four wooden boards and a number of slates and, intrigued by its popularity, he bought a set for himself.  It was only when he next visited us that we discovered he'd decided that Jenny and I would also enjoy the game, so he'd bought one for us as well.  What made him do that, I asked myself?  It could be that his long ago gift of some Red Indians played a part in his subconscious mind, but I doubt it.  It was more likely that his kindness came from the example his parents had set for him and his equally fine brother.  Whatever the reason, I want him to know that we have played Okey hundreds of time since he gave us that treasured gift and we still do so regularly.  I honour Ali's generosity, as I honour that of my brother Bob and my friend, Chris Bushell.  I honour the memory of those generous people who opened up their front door, as well as their wallets, to a crowd of young Carol Singers.  But, most of all, I honour my brother Wally.  The lad who shared his chocolate bar with his younger siblings and went on sharing throughout his life.  If you're one of those mean sods who conserve all you have, it's not too late to learn from the likes of Wally, Chris, Bob and Ali.  Do something altruistic, without thought of gain, even if it costs you money.  Who knows, you may even find you get hooked on the joy of giving!  

[Ken]

This memory tells of kindnesses given and received.  It's a story of people who have inspired me and informs those who value money over generosity that it's never too late to change!