Volunteer Days at OB

On volunteer days at OB, I don’t wear makeup. I DO wear my comfiest old clothes. And, I come prepared to break a sweat.
 
The one-year-olds in my class are busy, bright, curious, and often messy. For months I have helped and watched them accomplish milestones both big and small—learning to walk, using a spoon, feeding themselves, saying words—and the list goes on. When I see one of my kids do something new, it’s just pure joy to cheer that little one on.
 
I don’t know any details about their home lives, but I suspect for many it’s beyond difficult. Perhaps there isn’t enough food, or diapers, or the comforts of air conditioning or heat. They may sleep on the floor. Knowing these things hurts my heart right down to its tiniest artery. But, I also know that during the hours these children are at OB, they have what they need, and more. It’s both a comforting and powerful feeling to be part of these kids’ day. I don’t listen to that internal nag that says “one person can’t really make a difference.” I know better.
 
I’m also aware the power of volunteerism here is in our numbers. Volunteers pepper OB like sugar on a doughnut. We can spot each other by our special lanyards. I see someone holding a child’s hand in the hallway, getting a stroller to help a teacher, stocking food in the pantry, sorting donated clothing or clapping for a child’s success on the playground.
 
Each of us, I believe, knows we’re part of something VERY special. Being at OB is well worth my time, sweat, and even a few tears.