Done, Another Year
That effectively wraps up the door-to-door canvass on my part for the Canadian Cancer Society, for yet another year. Glad I am that it is now behind me. I've one house to return to, and that will be it. Except for writing my own cheque for the campaign. Then I'll complete the paperwork, enclose all the donations in the envelope provided, account for everything, matching the receipts handed out for income tax purposes with the cheques and cash received, hand it over to the area captain, and tip my hat to another obligation fulfilled.
It's the street I live on that I canvass. Most of my neighbours greet me with great civility, even though they saw me doing the very same thing in February for the Heart & Stroke Association, even though they will likely see me calling at their doorstep again for CNIB and perhaps The Arthritis Society, as they do every year. But for now I feel great relief, a burden has been lifted from the shoulders of my societal responsibility to volunteer in a way I've long been accustomed to.
Being accustomed to doing it doesn't make it any easier. I always procrastinate, and I'm not a procrastinating kind of person. I need to mentally shove myself out the door, canvass kit in hand, and determination solidly propelling me to visit each house on the street. Actually there are a number of houses where it is futile to continue knocking on the door, introducing myself and enquiring whether the residents are amenable to lending themselves to this exercise.
They never have been agreeable to parting with a scintilla of their disposable funds and on the evidence, never will be. There are those houses where I personally know these recalcitrant residents and enjoy a casual and friendly relationship with them, and to those houses I may still return on occasion. Impossible to break through their resolve to give nothing, whatever the cause. Hope springs eternal. Tonight I stopped by a house where I know one of the residents is still recovering from cancer.
Last year, during my canvass, his wife broke down in tears at the door, telling me brokenly that her husband was undergoing chemotherapy post-surgery. I did my best to comfort her, although this is a woman who has always faced me with great disinterest, seemingly pleased to take part in the charade where I introduce my mission of the moment, and she then looks down from her height, and curtly responds in the negative. This evening was no different. Her husband has responded well to his treatment.
It's disheartening, I can hardly understand how it is that people can take advantage of the very charitable institutions that we will all depend upon at one time or another - or members of our families will - and still refuse to be accountable as a member of society. I quite simply cannot fathom that mindset. These are people who regularly hire gardeners to look after their property, pay thousands of dollars for professionals to install decks, brickwork, swimming pools. But they've not a $5 donation to spare.
They, along with those who just never seem to have any cash lying handily around, and when it's recommended that a cheque is a more secure way to give, why the chequebook has gone missing. Still, they're not quite as bad as those who ask that I return another time, when it's more convenient for them, and when I do, why it still isn't convenient. Or those who earnestly promise to drop by our house along with a donation, rather than have me come by their house again.
Somehow, they never get around to making that trek over to my house. On the positive side, happily, there are those neighbours in abundance who thank me for dropping by, chat about neighbourhood or family events, and routinely write cheques for the charity of the moment. Invariably, the socially responsible, warm-hearted people are those with whom one feels most comfortable, as though there is a shared wisdom or value system between us, and of course, there is.
For now, I'm greatly relieved, I'm finished for the time being, and that's that.
It's the street I live on that I canvass. Most of my neighbours greet me with great civility, even though they saw me doing the very same thing in February for the Heart & Stroke Association, even though they will likely see me calling at their doorstep again for CNIB and perhaps The Arthritis Society, as they do every year. But for now I feel great relief, a burden has been lifted from the shoulders of my societal responsibility to volunteer in a way I've long been accustomed to.
Being accustomed to doing it doesn't make it any easier. I always procrastinate, and I'm not a procrastinating kind of person. I need to mentally shove myself out the door, canvass kit in hand, and determination solidly propelling me to visit each house on the street. Actually there are a number of houses where it is futile to continue knocking on the door, introducing myself and enquiring whether the residents are amenable to lending themselves to this exercise.
They never have been agreeable to parting with a scintilla of their disposable funds and on the evidence, never will be. There are those houses where I personally know these recalcitrant residents and enjoy a casual and friendly relationship with them, and to those houses I may still return on occasion. Impossible to break through their resolve to give nothing, whatever the cause. Hope springs eternal. Tonight I stopped by a house where I know one of the residents is still recovering from cancer.
Last year, during my canvass, his wife broke down in tears at the door, telling me brokenly that her husband was undergoing chemotherapy post-surgery. I did my best to comfort her, although this is a woman who has always faced me with great disinterest, seemingly pleased to take part in the charade where I introduce my mission of the moment, and she then looks down from her height, and curtly responds in the negative. This evening was no different. Her husband has responded well to his treatment.
It's disheartening, I can hardly understand how it is that people can take advantage of the very charitable institutions that we will all depend upon at one time or another - or members of our families will - and still refuse to be accountable as a member of society. I quite simply cannot fathom that mindset. These are people who regularly hire gardeners to look after their property, pay thousands of dollars for professionals to install decks, brickwork, swimming pools. But they've not a $5 donation to spare.
They, along with those who just never seem to have any cash lying handily around, and when it's recommended that a cheque is a more secure way to give, why the chequebook has gone missing. Still, they're not quite as bad as those who ask that I return another time, when it's more convenient for them, and when I do, why it still isn't convenient. Or those who earnestly promise to drop by our house along with a donation, rather than have me come by their house again.
Somehow, they never get around to making that trek over to my house. On the positive side, happily, there are those neighbours in abundance who thank me for dropping by, chat about neighbourhood or family events, and routinely write cheques for the charity of the moment. Invariably, the socially responsible, warm-hearted people are those with whom one feels most comfortable, as though there is a shared wisdom or value system between us, and of course, there is.
For now, I'm greatly relieved, I'm finished for the time being, and that's that.
Labels: Charity, Human Relations
posted by Pieface @ 6:07 PM
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