I just love these beautiful balls of color.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Today I went to my second Volunteer Luncheon. The Recreation Department set up a catered meal; the new superintendent shook all our hands and gave us certificates of appreciation; and we watched a slideshow of the Home, the residents, and its volunteers.
It was lovely to feel appreciated (and bring home a pack of wildflower seeds and a chocolate sunflower!), but in reality I am the grateful one. My time at the Soldiers Home has taught me life lessons I can’t imagine learning anywhere else.
Exhibit A: The grounds of the Soldiers Home, I might have mentioned, are immaculately groomed. Mike has told me there are just two gardeners on staff, and they literally cover a lot of ground. But not too long ago I noticed one stray weed poking out between two slabs of sidewalk concrete—and it struck me: This is what resilience looks like. And this is how these residents live. Some of them face so many obstacles every single day—their health, their limitations, their dependency—yet they just keep going, and trying, and living, without complaint.
Exhibit B: I’ve made some incredible friends at the Soldiers Home, and from time to time I’ve wondered: Would I judge them differently in any other setting? At the Home, there simply is no point in being judgmental: I automatically grant respect, honor and dignity to every single person I meet just because he or she is here. And therein lies the lesson (admittedly easier to recognize than to universally apply): What, exactly, is the point of judging anyone, anywhere? Yeah; that one is going to take some work.
There are more lessons, I’m sure, and I’m guessing (and hoping) I will pick them up as long as I keep visiting the Home. But these are two lessons I needed, and two I hope to live, and instill in my son. So in that light, I am indeed very grateful for the luncheon thanking us volunteers, but even more grateful for the true honor of being one of them.
Today I went to my second Volunteer Luncheon. The Recreation Department set up a catered meal; the new superintendent shook all our hands and gave us certificates of appreciation; and we watched a slideshow of the Home, the residents, and its volunteers.
It was lovely to feel appreciated (and bring home a pack of wildflower seeds and a chocolate sunflower!), but in reality I am the grateful one. My time at the Soldiers Home has taught me life lessons I can’t imagine learning anywhere else.
Exhibit A: The grounds of the Soldiers Home, I might have mentioned, are immaculately groomed. Mike has told me there are just two gardeners on staff, and they literally cover a lot of ground. But not too long ago I noticed one stray weed poking out between two slabs of sidewalk concrete—and it struck me: This is what resilience looks like. And this is how these residents live. Some of them face so many obstacles every single day—their health, their limitations, their dependency—yet they just keep going, and trying, and living, without complaint.
Exhibit B: I’ve made some incredible friends at the Soldiers Home, and from time to time I’ve wondered: Would I judge them differently in any other setting? At the Home, there simply is no point in being judgmental: I automatically grant respect, honor and dignity to every single person I meet just because he or she is here. And therein lies the lesson (admittedly easier to recognize than to universally apply): What, exactly, is the point of judging anyone, anywhere? Yeah; that one is going to take some work.
There are more lessons, I’m sure, and I’m guessing (and hoping) I will pick them up as long as I keep visiting the Home. But these are two lessons I needed, and two I hope to live, and instill in my son. So in that light, I am indeed very grateful for the luncheon thanking us volunteers, but even more grateful for the true honor of being one of them.
Volunteers at the annual luncheon, this time with a bouquet of chocolate flowers for us!
RSS Feed