This group can attest: It feels good to give

I do know that it's October, but I'm starting with a Christmas story anyway.

About two years ago, Zina Balbo wanted to do something big-hearted for her Bloomington neighbors, who had just adopted four foster siblings, all under age 5.

Balbo, a hairstylist in St. Louis Park, called clients, friends and friends of friends with a simple request: Can you spare some bucks?

On Christmas Day 2007, Balbo walked up to the family's door with a $500 check. "Merry Christmas," she said, then walked away. She didn't hear from them for the longest time.

Four months later, a knock on her door. There they were -- four little munchkins, pulling a wagon, with a plate of brownies.

I offer this up today for a couple of reasons. First, as was reported earlier this week, the recession is killing charitable organizations, as donations and investment income plummet and demand for services soars. Second, the familiar temptation to overdo the December holidays already entices us from store displays and TV commercials.

Balbo's story -- and it gets even better -- is a simply powerful way to respond to both.

Listening to a radio program, she heard something about "giving clubs," in which members gather monthly in book-club fashion. Instead of bringing books, though, they bring checks of a set amount, choosing a different charity each month as the beneficiary. (Important note to those feeling panicky: Relax. Wine is still served).

You need to do this, Balbo told herself. She crafted a simple letter to friends:

"Do you want to be more giving? Then come to my house on March 28, 2008."

A dozen friends and clients showed up. They came from Wayzata, Minneapolis and Bloomington, including a court reporter, special education teacher, psychologist, graphic designer, doctor and interior designer. Balbo explained the rules:

Everybody chips in $25 a month, minimum, whether you show up or not. Whoever hosts gets to pick the charity of her choice (locally based only) and is encouraged to share a bit about it with the group. Hosts are responsible for mailing or hand-delivering the donation with a short letter sharing the club's hope that the gift "helps you in your time of need."

The Giving Club also has eased the load for a few former members. One woman lost her job, then her home, while caring for her ill mother in another state. The group gave her $550. Another member left to travel the state, talking about teen depression after her son committed suicide. She used her money to defray traveling costs.

Balbo keeps a folder with newspaper clippings of potential recipients: a family devastated by the Hugo tornado, for example, or those left homeless by the Burnsville apartment fire.

She pays attention to crime news, too. One month, she delivered an $820 check to a police sergeant who, in turn, hand-delivered it to a young, pregnant woman who had been raped. "I couldn't stop thinking about her," Balbo said.

Giving is in Balbo's DNA. She grew up in Milwaukee, the fifth of six siblings. Her Sicilian mother, now 90, was honored for 40 years of volunteering at a food shelf. Her father was part of the Ethnic Council, whose mission was to embrace commonalities. "Hard acts to follow," Balbo said.

She's doing fine. The Giving Club collected $5,455 during its first year and is on track to do even more this year.

"When we get together, we talk about books, good things we've cooked, the latest remedy for hot flashes," Balbo said.

Then they get down to the business of paying it forward.

"We love this group," Balbo said. "When we are together, we are really happy."