Yesterday, I talked to Vi Meech, who volunteers at the CMHA’s (Canadian Mental Health Association) thrift store in New Westminster.
This is just one of her many volunteer activities.
When she’s not working at the thrift shop, Vi
- volunteers at her church, Olivet Baptist;
- bakes and sells her baking so she can donate money to charity;
- organizes a concert once a year and donates the proceeds to charity through the Ladies Auxiliary of the Fraternal Order of Eagles; and
- volunteers weekly at Century House.
Phew. I have to go lie down now.
Did I mention that Vi is eighty-four years old?
I’m working on an article about Vi’s life and how volunteering enriches it – she swears it keeps her healthy – but our interview was so profoundly moving that I couldn’t wait to share a piece of it, now.
Here’s a snippet.
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Interview with Vi Meech of New Westminster
“Where were you born, Vi?”
“Saskatchewan.”
“And how did you end up here?”
The quick back-and-forth, our easy banter, stalls.
Vi looks away. “That’s a long story. My husband was in the Air Force, and he was stationed out here.”
The volume drops, as does her gaze.
“I was basically a…single mother. We divorced, but I was here, and I didn’t have any money to go back, so here I stayed. I raised my three children by myself.”
Our eyes meet.
“I’m on my own, too. I have two little kids. It’s hard.”
She nods, then laughs. “Well, mine aren’t so little anymore. My youngest son is getting ready to retire, next year.”
“My oldest is getting ready for all-day school!”
We chat some more. Vi tells me what her schedule looks like (full!), and I ask her why she likes volunteering at the thrift store.
She tells me that even at age eighty-four, she’s not the kind of person who can sit around and do nothing. She swears that volunteering keeps her healthy.
Then she tells me a story.
“One morning, a woman came in, and it was obvious she had been crying. She had a little girl by the hand. She started picking things out: two cups, two plates, two bowls.”
Vi’s eyes redden. Mine fill with tears.
“Everything she needed – in two’s – was on the counter, and she held up a coffee maker and asked how much it was. I said $2. It wasn’t $2 but I said it was.
“Her husband had thrown her and the little girl out. Locked the door.
“Just being able to do that small thing for her made me feel good.”
Vi pauses, and I think about the simple pleasure of a hot cup of coffee. I think of the comforts of morning rituals. I think of that woman sitting with her daughter, who is eating a bowl of cereal, while she sips her coffee which is hopefully as strong as she needs to be.
“And that’s why I volunteer,” says Vi.
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Inspired?
Me too.
Wouldn’t you love to spend time, or volunteer, with someone like Vi?
ps CMHA needs volunteers, by the way.
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