The cold was bitter and the shoppers hustled. Only four days remained before Christmas.

Outside Giant Food in the Festival at Riva shopping center Saturday, Dec 21, one family tried to slow down the bustle — just for a moment — to spread some holiday cheer.

Dressed as Santa Claus, David Phipps, 53, emerged from the grocery store at 9 a.m. pushing a cart of hams toward a fold-up table adorned with sparkling red streamers and multi-colored lights. Christmas music blared from a Bluetooth speaker. Here, he and his kids have braved one December morning each of the last three years to distribute 1,000 pounds of ham.

“Would you like a ham?” asked Peace, one of Phipps’ 13-year-old daughters.

“For anybody?” responded a surprised Laura Korba, 33, of Davidsonville. “Why?”

Phipps and his family explained what they’ve become accustomed to over the last three years. They don’t judge. The hams are for who want them, needy or not. They accept no money or donations, and want nothing in return. Just a family trying to spread a little good, Phipps said.

Some patrons slipped past, avoiding eye contact. Those folks think they want something, Phipps suspects. Others deferred to those who they said really need it. Most passersby welcomed the pleasant surprise.

“Wow Santa, a ham!” said Mary-Ellen McGrath, 74, shocked. She’s going to a friend’s house to celebrate Christmas. “Now I know what I’m bringing.”

It’s an exercise in humility born out of resentment.

“I was pissed at my kids,” Phipps said.

For years he put up a tree and decorated it, covered the house with lights and bought presents galore. iPods. Video games. A motorcycle and a small boat. But it was all for naught — the appreciation didn’t equal the effort.

“The more I did, the less happy they seemed to be,” he said.

Three years ago, he canceled Christmas. No tree, nothing.

Phipps’ son Dillon, 18, remembers that day. It wasn’t a happy one. Really, no presents? he thought.

His father had other ideas. What if, Phipps thought, he could teach his kids about kindness; about the gift of giving instead of getting.

And so came the idea of giving away meats. He approached a variety of Annapolis-area grocery stores. Some offered to truck Turkeys to homeless shelters. But only Giant, he said, would let him hand out hams and accomplish the lesson he was after.

Store manager Pete DeSantis facilitated Phipps’ request. This year, DeSantis made sure the store chipped in with an extra 500 pounds of meat.

“To see the people surprised, somebody just giving them something, it’s really nice,” DeSantis said.

Dillon remembers the first time they handed out ham. He was timid and reluctant.

“I was more self-centered going into it,” he said. “I was like ‘This sucks that I’m here.’”

Nonetheless he, Phipps, Peace and Cocobella, 13, persevered. They warmed up to the idea, too. The surprise on people’s expressions was endearing. Once, a woman broke down at the simple act of kindness. It clicked.

“It was the first time I started thinking about other people instead of myself,” Dillon said.

Giving is fun, too, they said. The family eats dinner and do crafts together the night before. “Happy Holidays. Free Hams. From our Family,” one of the festive signs read.

And Phipps’ lesson has come full circle. His kids wanted to expand. This year was tough financially, he said, and he was ready to abandon the holiday hams. For a year, at least.

“(Dillon) especially, said ‘Dad you can’t cancel it. People are counting on us,’” Phipps said.

As much was evident that morning, as neighbors descended upon the little table. It’s become something of a tradition for some, including the residents of the nearby Claiborne apartments.

When Rita Perkins first heard three years back that someone was handing out free hams, she rushed on down to Giant and was greeted by what she described as an act of genuine kindness. Perkins, 60, said she was on a fixed income and that the ham “meant everything” — “angels unaware,” she said.

Dillon and his sisters’ persistence worked, as Phipps bought in this year and plans to go bigger next: 5,000 pounds at three or four stores, Phipps hopes.

By 9:30 a.m., the family had dished out one cart of hams, prompting father and son to run back into the store for another batch. “I got to go back to my sleigh and get the hams.”

Those who waited ate sugar cookies from a holiday tin until the doors slid open. Dillon and Phipps returned with two carts — double the ham!

“Merry Christmas,” Phipps said, “from our family to yours.”