Praise for volunteers who live an artful life

How good to take a break and laze,

Make the most of summer days, Everywhere bright rainbow flowers, Bring such cheer to daylight hours; Picnics in parks or by the sea,

Children playing happily, From dawn ’til dusk, birds chirp and sing, So many pleasures this season does bring.

I went to an art exhibition at the weekend.

The pieces on display were mostly impressive and sometimes breathtaking.

The location, in the racquet hall of a ruined stately home, was wonderfully different. But, still, it was poorly attended.

“I JUST thought I was passing on a compliment,” Gary told me. “I didn’t think I’d make him cry!”

He had been at a soft-play with his grandchildren and had been impressed by the way a much younger man was looking after his children. “So, I just told him I thought he made a good dad. He shook my hand and started crying! It turned out he had been watching me too, because I reminded him of his dad.

“And his dad hadn’t lived to see him become a father... or tell him how he was doing. For me it was just a compliment. For him it must have been a message from the great beyond.”

Compliments are always worth passing on, Gary, and the “great beyond” works in its own mysterious ways!

So, I got the chance to talk to the ladies on the front desk. They were full of enthusiasm and information – and they were volunteers! Regardless of how many people attended, they were doing their bit to keep the arts going in their community.

As a society we are blessed to have so many of good heart, who work in so many ways just to make things better, safer, more cultured for the rest of us. It would be a sadder place without them. Volunteers – each a work of art in their own right!

I’VE known Peter all my life but it took the minister stating the obvious at his funeral for me to understand something about him.

“He had a universal response to anyone having a difficult time,” the minister said. “Strawberry tarts!”

Someone could be sick, have lost their job, just be down and depressed and Peter would take them strawberry tarts. And they would generally make things better. Of course, the magic wasn’t in the tarts. What made the difference was the man who delivered them (although I am sure they were enjoyed as well).

So, in honour of the good man who can’t do it any more, we might wonder... who needs some strawberry tarts taken round?