My father-in-law Yvon Cyr received an award tonight for Outstanding Senior Volunteer. Over the years he has logged 55,000 hours as a volunteer. That works out to over 28 years of full time employment! This poem is dedicated to him and all the other hard working and unsung heroes who give everything they can to those who need their help and ask nothing in return.

In Praise of Volunteers

What does it mean to volunteer,

To give your time for free?

Give with no thought of getting back,

As strange as that may be.

How strange it is and wonderful,

Such kindness now to find.

Someone who puts another first,

No payment in their mind.

Most times when someone gives a hand,

The expectation’s clear.

There’s something wanted in return,

Not so the volunteer.

They work unsung, behind the scenes,

To see a project through.

And when it’s done they start to look,

For something more to do.

They’ll give their time to help to feed,

Those who can’t feed themselves.

You’ll find them in a foodbank when,

It’s time to stock the shelves.

They raise the funds to help a cause,

Because they know it’s right.

And if there’s cause there’s some who will,

Stay and help through the night.

So thank you all for all you do,

For tasks both great and small.

You do so much ask nothing back,

You should stand proud and tall.

Now please accept my humble thanks,

These simple words of praise.

To all the volunteers out there,

My glass in toast, I raise.

Cheers, Winston