Tyson’s Corner, Va., now a vibrant suburb of Washington, D.C., was a quiet, rural town in the 1960s. Besides farmland, it boasted a local beer joint, a gas station, and one flashing red light. Tyson’s Corner is where Edith Adams, a destitute young mother of two boys—Randy, 4, and Clayton, 6 months—found herself at Christmastime.
Clayton, born with chronic bronchitis and other serious health problems, was only 6 weeks old when Edith, with her husband out somewhere, had to call on a neighbor to drive them to her son’s check-up. Clayton’s health required constant monitoring. Edith even had to keep her son from crying because it would be risky for him.
A call from jail
Edith’s husband didn’t come home that night. Early the next morning, a neighbor brought her to a phone to receive a call from the police. Her husband had been incarcerated; he would remain in jail for more than six months.
Edith had no money, no car, not even a telephone. She had no friends, no family, and nowhere to turn. Alone, with two small children, Edith was unable to work; she had no one who could care for them.
At just 20, Edith soon learned to manage on the meager welfare funds she received. She made a home, as best she could, in a dimly lit basement apartment.
Christmas came, but money didn’t. There was no food in the pantry, and certainly no gifts for the boys.
“Christmas can’t happen like this!” Edith cried as a dark cloud of desperation gathered around her.
An Army of helpers
Deacons in a local church learned of her situation and referred her to The Salvation Army. A representative swiftly contacted her and offered her an opportunity to celebrate Christmas with her children.
Forty–five years later, Edith’s green eyes still brim with tears as she recounts her experience.
“I walked into this big warehouse. It was filled with reconditioned toys—toys people had donated [that were] still in good shape and had been cleaned up. Then, there were new toys … and there was, almost like a grocery store—it was just filled up with so much stuff.”
She no longer felt alone.
“I saw loads of people there, people just like us, in need.” She recalls an atmosphere of almost family–like celebration. “I felt so welcomed. They [The Salvation Army workers] were actually excited to see us.”
They allowed Edith to select three toys for each child, two reconditioned ones and one brand new one. And there was the food.
“I got a list, according to how many people were in my family, and I got to pick out whatever I wanted.” Edith says. “I got a turkey and tons of canned goods. I had enough food to last long after Christmas.”
A blessed feast
She prepared a Christmas feast for her boys; their eyes danced with excitement at the presents they received. The bleakness of her situation had become a dim backdrop to the now–festive Christmas.
“The Salvation Army was a blessing from the Lord,” Edith says.
“I was so excited my kids were going to get to have a nice Christmas. Actually it was one of the best ever!”
The support from the Salvation Army made a lifelong impact on Edith.
“I couldn’t believe there were people who cared—strangers who cared this much—to do something like this for my family,” she says.
Now a petite, 65–year–old red–headed fireball, Edith lives alone but is a dedicated donor to her local Salvation Army. She understands and appreciates that the work of the Army extends well beyond the holidays. With heartfelt gratitude, Edith celebrates being in a position to give back.
She doesn’t pass a bellringer without putting money into the red kettle; she occasionally makes personal visits to the local Salvation Army office with her donations. In retirement, she intends to continue to help as she is able.
“I always said, if I ever had money to give, I’d give it to The Salvation Army,” she says.
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