Barry Lewis shook both of his hand bells rhythmically and with a little holiday pizzazz Saturday morning as he stood in the refrigerated gray air just outside the exit of discount retail giant Sam’s Club in Bangor.

As his red plastic Salvation Army kettle slowly filled with rolled dollar bills and jangling handfuls of change, passers-by cruised out of the store pushing shopping carts stuffed with megacontainers of pancake mix, diet drinks, shiny wrapping paper and board games.

Children’s eyes lit up as they watched the dancing bells and some folks smiled or stopped to chat and share a joke with Lewis.

The majority of Eastern Maine shoppers, though, carefully avoided looking at the bell ringer – or opening their wallets – and mumbled a cursory reply to his cheerful greeting as they slid past him toward the warm sanctuary of their cars.

“I don’t really get down about it, but you do start to lose your enthusiasm,” Lewis said, his words punctuated with the endless jingling. “I don’t try to make them have eye contact. Sometimes I’ll shake my bell a little harder. Believe it or not, that makes them look.”

Lewis said that about 25 percent of shoppers give to The Salvation Army and that the average donation is a dollar. That statistic was borne out by an informal polling of passers-by, though some did toss in multiple singles and even $5 bills as they walked past the kettle.

The millions of dollars raised annually by the nonprofit group during its nationwide holiday campaign go to aid needy families, seniors and the homeless, often providing Christmas dinners, clothing and toys for those who otherwise would do without.

Some local shoppers saw the red kettle and its siren song of ringing bells as an opportunity to reflect on what the holiday season truly means to them.

“There’s just so many people who need so much,” Pat Dixon of Jackson said after she tucked some bills into the kettle. “We’re not doing Christmas for ourselves this year; we’re doing it for everyone else … we’ve got so much. My husband just had a brain aneurysm in November. That’s my Christmas, to have him come back again.”

The scene at the Bangor Sam’s Club, though uniquely Maine from the raw weather to the preponderance of flannel shirts and L.L. Bean boots worn by shoppers, was an American holiday classic that could have taken place anywhere from coast to coast. When homebound or harried shoppers are confronted by the sight of the Salvation Army bell ringers, do they open up purses and wallets and dig deep for a dollar, or just quietly slip past and try to mingle with the rest of the anonymous crowd?

Lewis is a first-year bell ringer joining the scores who stand outside in all conditions enduring 10-hour shifts. Lewis, who is paid the minimum wage of $6.50 an hour, looked well wrapped up for the weather in a thick fleece pullover and a black woolen overcoat. His dimpled grin shone out through all the layers, though, as he reflected on his experiences working as a bartender all over the country – and whether his recent work with the Salvation Army has changed his perception of humanity.

“I’ve dealt with people my whole life,” he said. “I think I have the same amount of faith in the same percentage of humanity as before. About 20 percent.”

But as Lewis shook his bells and watched small children pestering their parents for change to throw into the kettle, he upgraded that percentage.

“Oh, maybe it’s 40-60,” he said.

Adele Goldstein of Southwest Harbor donated some dollars as she waited for a ride to pick her up.

“I’m more than willing, any time I see one of them standing there in the cold to do it,” she said of giving money to The Salvation Army. “I think they’re a good organization. Very good. And I have that feeling that when I put the money in there, it goes to what I want it to do.”

Younger women, elderly ladies and people with children tend to give more, Lewis said, though the demographics can be hard to predict.

As Lewis spoke, a man in a green plaid shirt dug deep into his pockets, hauling out a handful of change. He tossed the money in.

“Happy holidays and thank you,” Lewis said.

A woman leaving the store who did not donate said she had no change.

“Yup, I’ve heard that one before,” the bell ringer said after she was out of earshot.

Another woman said she already had given at the mall.

“That’s a lot of it, too,” Lewis said. “We’ve got bell ringers everywhere.”

Lewis ignored some suspicious sidelong glances cast by shoppers as he shook his bells with gusto.

“What a great day,” he said. “It’s a good time of year. Most people are generous this time of year.”