The holiday party on the 15th of December, 2007 at Sarah House, was more than a celebration of Joe’s birthday but also a chance for me to meet his family, other clients, and the staff and volunteers that I have never seen face to face. We were able to see Sarah House in operation, share our experiences about Sarah House, and enjoy the entertainment and food.  As a volunteer in the office, many names and stories pass over my desk, but it means more when I can associate a real person with those names.  Sarah House is about people.  Those who take advantage of the services it provides, the staff and volunteers at the house, and all of those who support the administrative and fundraising activities to make Sarah House the success it is.  We are a diverse family, all members of whom are needed to make it work.

This was written by our faithful and hard-working volunteer, Ken.

Flowers. Purple flower painting above your head, a purple flower unfurling in rectangular splendor. You lying underneath the purple flowers, colorful quilts covering your thin body. You were still beautiful, as a woman is, at 99. I sat next you to you, pulled up a collapsible chair and sat with you when you were in the middle of dinner. Repast was meatloaf, I think with mashed potatoes. A wonderful, steaming creation made with heart by Darlene. You kept dabbing your mouth and I spoke about nothing. The weather, the fires, this and that. I guess just to hear my voice, to fill the room with my sound. I stopped and said, Rose, tell me to be quiet. I know I’m talking incessantly. She replied “ I don’t like to talk during dinner.” She ordered me to come back with a bowl of hot food and sit with her. I did so. “I am a florist”, Rose had proudly told me. The title of florist had seeped into her skin, into her Way. She was indeed a florist, she was indeed a flower. She helped me water her beautiful potted flowers, a collection including a purple orchid and some pretty orange Gerber daisies. I would bring each pot to her so she could stick her fingers in and check the soil for me.

Extraordinary kindness in word and in touch and in deed. It is about paying attention and then, in a busy world, making time center on what might make our residents happy…

A few weeks ago, it was preparing all the stuff for John’s children so that they could enjoy a taco bar luncheon on what turned out to be the last day that they had with their Dad.

It was helping Maria find the perfect pillow while secretly confiding in her that we suspected that it didn’t even exist.

It was putting The Notebook seven nights in a row on the television so that Tom could have another good and cathartic cry.