Thinking back ten years, I remember a time in my life when I was heavily involved in volunteer work. This was before I ever had a paying job, I would go to my volunteer job at the hospital, and I almost always loved it. My first year, I worked in patient transport. This was a pretty neat job. The volunteers sat in a room, usually stuffing envelopes to be mailed or just listening to an older volunteer talk about his life. Other times, I was able to work on my homework or read a book. We would get a call to go to a different department to wheel a patient in a wheelchair either to another department for a test or outside if they were being discharged.
Another year, I worked in the Gift Shop as a cashier which I found really exciting because it was a little store.
My last two years, I spent in the adult day care helping the seniors with their daily activities such as games like bowling or throwing pins or arts and craft projects such as painting. One lady I remember in particular, I was helping her paint a picture, and she kept putting her hands on the wet paint. Other times, I would help distribute the food at lunchtime.
I didn't get paid for my hours spent at the hospital helping out, but I found it rewarding regardless. I might not have been making a profit from this venture, but I was growing as a person inside, developing more of an awareness of the human condition as I got to see patients that were better and happy to be going home, patients that were unsure of their fate as they went from department to department for various tests, visitors visiting the hospital feeling an uneasiness inside about visiting a sick person, and patients that were older and nearing the end of their life.
I also did a short stint in the maternity ward preparing the bassinets for the newborns. I had to place the pad into the bassinet, only imagining that soon enough a new life would be laying on it, and wondering all the wonderful and maybe not so wonderful memories that this new life would acquire over the years. Wondering how their lives would unfold. Was I preparing the bassinet for the next Einstein? Was this one for the next President? Was I making the bassinet for the person that would grow up to eventually lead to my very own demise? Would the person in this one be the person to grow up and find a cure for cancer? I could only wonder, but I found it fascinating regardless.
Its not about how much you make at your job in terms of monetary compensation, but how are you growing as a person. That is what is the most important thing to keep in mind. Yes, money is an important necessity, but its only the most superficial value of having a particular job when it comes to connecting with humanity.
