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Although they are not wealthy, Fairview couple Bud and
Muriel Matthews share what they have by giving to charity
instead of buying each other presents at Christmas.
(Eric Wynne / Staff) |
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Children in Nicaragua show the impact Bud and Muriel
Matthews have had when they donate to Sleeping Children
Around the World. |
As published in the Halifax Chronicle Herald, December 24, 2010
They buy nothing to put under their own tree, but theirs is the true spirit of Christmas
By KELLY SHIERS Staff Reporter
Bud and Muriel Matthews’ neat little bungalow is festive with Christmas lights.
Inside, living room shelves are filled with Santas, snowmen and red bows. Mistletoe hangs from the ceiling and a tree is laden with decades-old ornaments.
But there are no gifts.
Well, by Christmas morning, there may be one or two under the tree from someone they’ve helped — maybe the refugee family they befriended years ago or one of the "old people" the Matthews take shopping.
But there really haven’t been gifts for years, not since their grandchildren got older.
And except for those sheets Muriel gave Bud as a Christmas present when they were married more than half a century ago, there’s never been a single birthday, anniversary or Christmas gift exchanged between them.
Still, it’s here in Halifax — in their home of 47 years where they raised two children and watched five grandchildren grow — that the spirit of Christmas lives, a generosity, compassion and faith that took root eight decades ago and blossomed.
And a spirit of giving that runs all year long.
"When she was about 13, (granddaughter) Elizabeth was looking underneath the tree and said, ‘Doesn’t Poppy give you anything, Nanny?’ " 79-year-old Muriel remembers.
" ‘No,’ I said.
" ‘But you close your eyes, Elizabeth. Underneath Nanny’s tree there are people now who can see and there are people now who have food and there are people who now have things they didn’t have before.’ "
It’s an answer that satisfied the young girl, who today says she’s lucky to have such "caring and giving" grandparents.
And it’s the best explanation they have for a lifetime spent, as Bud calls it, as their brother’s keeper.
"We were never rich growing up, but there was always something to share," he says, recalling how his mother used to pack an extra sandwich in his father’s lunch to give to homeless men living in tunnels near where he worked.
"It was born into us to look out for other people," he says.
The Matthews’ story begins in Halifax’s north end, where six-year-old Muriel and eight-year-old Bud lived across the street from each other.
They were teenage sweethearts.
She quit school and gave up her dream to become a nurse in order to care for her newborn brother when their mother died in childbirth. He took that baby every Saturday to give her time to bake and, at 15, asked if she would teach him to dance.
"But he didn’t want to learn to dance," she laughs. "He just wanted to come over to me."
"Well, there’s not too many females around my size," says Bud, sharing the sofa and this story with his wife. "I’m five-foot-two and she’s four-foot-six."
"Four-foot-six-and-a-half," she interjects.
"Actually, she’s six-foot-10 inside," he says.
"And he’s a sweetheart, I tell you," she replies, in the kind of banter that comes from being married 58 years.
Those early years were tough. When they married, Bud was earning $1.25 an hour at the Halifax dockyard, where he stayed for 45 years. He had loaned a workmate $250 on a promise he would repay before the couple wed. He didn’t, so the Matthews began married life "scraping the bottom of the barrel."
"But he needed that money. That’s the way to look at that," Muriel says.
And there’s been a great deal of need since.
It’s not that they set out not to give to one another. It’s just that there always seemed to be someone who needed their help more.
Over the years, they’ve come to the aid of friends and neighbours, people they met through church — where every five weeks they still take their turn scrubbing, vacuuming and dusting — or through their volunteer work. Sometimes, they reach out to strangers when they hear a story that touches their hearts.
Rarely — very rarely — have they been taken advantage of, they say.
And they’ve never soured on giving "because other people would just suffer for it," Muriel says.
Today, they regularly donate to at least 10 charities, including Operation Eyesight Universal, a group that helps people blinded by cataracts and other avoidable causes. Not long ago, the Matthews, whose donations over the past 30 years have helped about 60 people to see, were honoured by the organization
For their 55th wedding anniversary, the couple donated to Sleeping Children Around the World, providing six kids in developing countries with bed kits, including mattresses and mosquito nets to prevent malaria. Later, they received pictures of the children holding signs that read "Happy Anniversary."
These days, Bud has cut back on his door-to-door canvassing, but still goes out each February for the Heart and Stroke Foundation.
"Some of them are misers — they don’t even give," Muriel says of the people Bud sees on his walkabouts.
"But sometimes they’re a little more generous when they see how frozen you are," Bud says, with a grin. "I think my age contributes to that a little bit."
But while Muriel admits to getting "a bit angry" by those who claim they can’t afford to give anything at all, Bud reacts differently.
"Actually, I feel sorry for them," he says. "They’re denying themselves the opportunity to participate in something bigger than their individual lives. They actually lose in the process."
The Matthews, who only agreed to tell their story in the hope others may be inspired to help whatever way they can, say they take great delight knowing their children and grandchildren are also givers.
Granddaughter Elizabeth Isenor, home from Calgary to get married on Wednesday, has asked wedding guests not to buy gifts but to donate to charity instead. Shower guests were asked to donate money that she will give to a shelter for abused women and their children.
"A lot of our ideas are the same," says Isenor, a medical student. "It’s hard to look at someone else who has nothing, to sit there and enjoy what you have when there’s somebody else out there who isn’t as well off."
The Matthews say they’ve always lived frugally but want for nothing. And with Muriel having been diagnosed with — and beaten — breast cancer, skin cancer and cervical cancer, they know what’s truly important.
"I have the thing I ever wanted most in my life," Muriel says, reaching for her husband.
"That’s him. That’s all I want. As long as he’s by me, I’m the richest woman in the whole world."
