Volunteer Voice
On the few rare days when I'm behind on my own business and push myself to get to the hospital, ('rare' referring to 'push myself', not 'behind on my' work...lol) I have yet to walk out hours later and not thank God for letting me be there with these remarkable kids. The amazing girl who at 5 knows more medical jargon and what each procedure means. We have always been able to communicate though not through words; today we had our first conversation. He mom walked in and gave me a huge hug when she saw me. The 19 year old who has tremendous pride in the wonderful person she is and wants to be a model...she needs a lung transplant. The little girl who was so excited to see me again...I never hope to see any of these kids 'again' in this setting, though I often do. I see people, kids and parents, of every corner of the world and every walk of life. It is a joy to me. I worried whether I would be able to see through the diagnosis, but amazingly I just see the bright and shining child who just happens to be in a bed...often surrounded by beads! And I thank God every day.
Thanks Annie!!
Mary (
The following is a poem written by Gabrielle. Gabrielle is a volunteer at The Bristol Meyers Squibb Children's Hospital at Robert Wood Johnson.
Volunteering with the Portable Playhouse,
Just listen for a while,
For tell of the meaning, the feeling when you make a sick child smile.
Armed with our boxes of beads, scissors and string,
Our only objective, our mission,
To bring smiles, lively chatter, some laughs,
A distraction.
Sickly eyes light up, when we announce, “Time for beading action!”
Bracelets, anklets, a key chain with A name.
Switch off the TV, put down the Xbox,
This is the very best game.
Beads of colors, blue, orange and pink,
Green, silver, brown; we watch them think.
Shall it be yellow and that bright red?
Or shall it be black and white?
They shuffle eagerly in bed.
The anticipation glows bright in their eyes.
Then smiling lips gives up their choice,
Pure excitement right there in their voice.
Maybe a bracelet for sister or one for mother.
A keychain, black and silver, for Dad or a brother.
We tip favorite beads into pots and perch on the bed.
Talk about school, best friends,
Movies watched, books they’ve read.
Or favorite ice cream,
Sprinkles, hot fudge topping,
For a moment forgetting doctors, needles
And what’s stopping them from being at home, here stuck in their room.
Now we’re threading and chatting, and smiling.
Bringing light to the gloom.
Weary mothers and fathers, caregivers and siblings,
Who’d rather be at home with their children,
Healthy and fit,
Chat with us too, and while we sit
Garner strength from smiles their children display
A boost of energy to get through
Another sick day.
Those hours, only a moment, so precious,
Too swift.
Jewelry designed by the children
We gladly give
They give us their smiles
The very best gift.