Thanks

          Confession: I have a guilty pleasure at the Volunteer Reception Center. No, it is not a secret stash of chocolate or the fact that the wonderful woman who brings two dozen freshly baked cookies every morning actually brings three dozen. My guilty pleasure is a job – a special, secret job that I do not let anyone else do, a job of which I am possessive, territorial, and probably covetous.

            Oh, the mystery, the intrigue. My secret? I get to make the follow-up calls with homeowners after volunteer groups have worked on their homes.

            Although this may not be as jazzy as it sounds, let me assure you that it is a pretty sweet gig. You see, the only problem with volunteers is that they are hard to thank. After volunteers have worked on a home, packed up and left, it seems that some homeowners, at least, still have wonderful things left to say. So they tell me. In a work environment that can be stressful, chaotic and feel like perpetual problem solving, calling homeowners has become my drug of choice, my guilty pleasure that helps get me through the day.

            I love to listen as the suspicion with which the homeowner answers the phone melts away into a sharp intake of air and excited rebuttal, interrupting me to tell me that there are not “enough good things to say” about the volunteers. Not only was the youth group from West Des Moines hard working, they were delightful young people to be around. Not only were there no problems with the group of business associates, they were efficient workers. Not only did that group of friends clean up the basement, they helped muck out the garage, too.

            Dear volunteers, I wish you could hear what I get to hear. People are singing your praises, even if it is a song you do not wish to be sung. The paean is not simply for your time, your effort, your energy – as important as those are. It is for caring for people not in the abstract but demonstrating, to all of us, that concern in a tangible way. It is for giving of yourself enough to care for someone you have never met, will never know, and may never meet again. It is not what you have given, but whom and to whom. From all those to whom you have given, and from all of us who have been inspired by your gift, thank-you.