Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts

Friday, November 16, 2012

Get into the Groove Already . . . you Stubborn Lid




          Earlier in summer this year, I had gone with my ward on a canning assignment and decided that once school had started that I would put in 3-9 hours of volunteer work at the cannery once each month.  Thus far I haven’t made it to five hours.  But I am proud to say that I have been at least once a month.
          The only shift I can do currently is the 11-2 and I can only go on a Monday or a Wednesday as I am with mom on Tuesday and Thursday and Friday is normally Jenna’s short day and gets out of school just after one.

          I had actually gone to the cannery last week, but the machine had broken down or something.  When I arrived it appeared they already had thirty volunteers waiting to fulfill assignment.

          In the past I have noticed too many people can present just as many problems as not enough.  I opted to return home – which actually turned out to be a blessing on my end.  I’d forgotten about fall break, and Jenna walked in the house at 1:30.  I would have felt bad if she had returned to an empty house with no clue about where I might be.



          In summer, when I was with my ward, I noticed three that had been assigned to fastening lids on jars.  Oh, I was so relieved not to have put on that job.  Ironically, that has been the position I have been given every time I’ve gone (with two exceptions) and it’s really not as bad as I had made it out to be – except for today.
         
          I was having so much trouble getting the lid to fasten.  But it actually wasn’t just me – we all had problems with them.  At first it just seemed to be Eve and I who were struggling.  There didn’t seem to be as much struggle for Jean and Kris – who were grabbing lids from another box.

          I decided that it was the lids.  They must have been nicked or flawed or something.  Steve – who is an actual employee and not just a volunteer – picked up a couple of lids to redo a couple of jars that had been missed (and I take full responsibility)



          Ideally there are supposed to be three people for the jar lids.  The first is to fasten jars number 3 and 6, the second 2 and 5 and the last one should be able to do 1 and 4.  But sometimes we have four.  And Jean would usually do two jars along with Eve and Kris leaving me with very little to do (Jean would sometimes let a jar slide on purpose so that I would be able to have the opportunity) until Penny came in and took Jean’s place (Jean had been there since 9:30) and appeared to be having more trouble twisting the lids than I was.

          Sometimes the lid would escape from her.  A few had become flying saucers.  At least a couple soared over my knee before crash landing into the floor. Some remained on the conveyor belt and took a ride along with the jars that were full of applesauce.

          There was one time I was doing Salsa with a team of Polynesian background.  I don’t know if they were holding a contest among themselves or if they each thought it was their duty to personally make the day’s quota.  Pekelo would do bottles 2, 4, 5 and 6.  And Kalani would do bottles 1 and 3.  I was lucky if I was able to do one in 18 jars – seriously.

          Today we did applesauce and the last time I volunteered, it was honey.  Now that was cool watching the forklifts bring in the one and a half tons of honey and then see it get sucked out from a tube and enter the machine.  Fascinating.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Conveyor Belts and Hangers




          There are several opportunities that each of us has to volunteer – whether through the community or the Church we attend – often both.

          The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints distributes food items to so many in need all throughout the world.  And the demands are always increasing.  Assignments must be fulfilled in order to meet the requirements and demands.
  I have personally assisted at the pasta plant, the cannery, the dairy (well – not the actual dairy where the cows are milked – but the plant where the milk and cheese are made) the bishops’ storehouse and Deseret Industries (a store which sells a large variety of second hand goods) For each I have positive experiences for the most part.  With some come memorable stories. 

          Once when I was pregnant with Jenna, Roland and I had gone to DI to offer our assistance.  I don’t recall what location – but we were given chairs and price guns to put on books that had been put on carts but were still outside.  Roland and I started setting aside books that we thought we would like to have for our unborn child. Some were really in great condition.  Some appeared as though they had never been used.

The first time I’m aware that I assisted at DI, our son Ooki  (mentioned here) was living with us at the time.  As it was also his first time assisting at the store he wore his flip flops – his everyday footwear – and so for safety reasons he wasn’t allowed to be on the floor lifting heavy objects as Roland and Biff had been assigned. 


Ooki and I were assigned to the warehouse.  Our job was to sort through clothes.  There were three lines overhead. We were told to sort the clothes into men, women and children.  It was so awesome having him back there with me as he was a natural hard worker – and he could reach above me and could more easily pull down more hangers when we ran out. 

There was one thing that amused me about his performance however. Every time he came across something red, it automatically went onto the women’s hanging.  If it was small enough, I suppose he would have placed it to the children’s side.  But I did notice when he placed a man’s shirt on the women’s line.

          “Isn’t that a man’s shirt?”  I asked after he had placed it on the line with the other clothing.
          “NO!” he wondered what would possess me to ask such a question.  “Would you wear that if you were a man?”

          “I don’t know.  But look.  It is a man’s shirt.  The buttons are on the opposite side.”
          People have asked, “Why do men and women have buttons on the opposite side of their shirts?” 

          I wasn’t paying close enough attention to ever consider it.  But Roland explained to me that so that when you are dressing a person of a different sex than your own (an invalid spouse, parent, child, whatever) the buttons are on the same side as your used to.  Oh.

          “Besides just because you wouldn’t wear it doesn’t mean another man wouldn’t.  Don’t you think it looks like something that Tony might wear?”

          “Oh, alright!” Ooki removed the garment and placed it on the men’s line.  It did make me smile that he had reacted as he had.

          I don’t recall having done volunteer work at the pasta plant until after I was married.  Volunteers have to be at least sixteen and so we didn’t have any of the boys the first couple of times.

          Roland and I were assigned to remove the spaghetti noodles from the chute and stack them neatly in grey tubs.  I have small hands and was not able to keep up with Roland who was filling 3 ½ tubs to my every one.  When my side got too full, Roland and I would trade places and he’d empty my side until I could no longer keep up with his side. And then we’d trade back.  It was fun. 

          When I’m at the dairy, I am usually on the assembly line with the cheese – though I don’t recall now what my exact job was.  My favorite part about working there is going on break and having access to chocolate milk and cheese.  And often we get a brick of cheese before we leave.  And church cheese is very wonderful to the pallet.



          This last Thursday I did some work at the cannery.  It wasn’t near as hot as the pasta plant – especially where I was positioned.  I enjoyed watching the long line of conveyor belts take each of the bottles to their destination.
          Someone would load empty bottles onto the conveyor belt.  The bottles would line up and go through a machine that would squirt salsa into each bottle.  Then the loaded jars would be removed long enough for one of three workers to put on the lid.  And then it would go to the “steam room for bottles”
          The temperature of the water – from what I understand – was 180 – and that would seal the lids onto the jars.  My job was checking the lids to make certain that all were vacuum-packed – and to remove the few that still had air beneath the lids. 

          The water had cooled down quite a bit – though the salsa was still warm.  I loved having the opportunity to shake some excess water onto myself to help myself cool down.

          The final destination for the bottles was inside of a premade box.  And that was it.  I worked hard and once my shift ended, I drove to my sister’s house to pick up Jenna (who had spent the night) I didn’t realize how sore I was until I sat down on Kayla’s couch.  I must do some volunteer work more often.  I may start going 3 of 4 times a month after school starts again.
          I mentioned the Bishops’ Storehouse in this post.  We have also fulfilled various tasks at the food bank – from sorting food products to sending out letters.  I’m grateful for the opportunities that I have to serve.

         


Thursday, April 26, 2012

Silent Heroes



There are several variations of what may come to one’s mind when visualizing his or her perception of a hero.  There are comic book heroes such as Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, or even Word Girl.

Many people have benefitted from the heroic actions of the police, firefighters, soldiers, etc.  It is the uniformed men or women whom they see as heroes.  And they are, and deserve to be recognized.
         
          There are “heroes” who do it for the glory – just to be recognized as heroes.  And there are the silent heroes who work behind the scenes, who don’t ask for recognition, many who would prefer not to bask in the glory.  These are the true heroes.

          Roland is one of those heroes.  He does things out of nature – not because he’s seeking a reward or glory.  He just does things because they need to be done.
          For example, he’s really not mechanically minded, but he will stop to give people a lift or assist where able – whether he actually knows the person (or people) or not.

          One time (many years ago) he noticed an acquaintance waiting at the bus stop.  He offered her a lift just because of his nature.  But for her, it was a heroic act of rescue.  Neither of us knows all the details and so it is only speculation as to whether she woke up late, her car wasn’t running, she had barely missed the bus . . . whatever. 

She  has been grateful to Roland for his actions all this time – and it really wasn’t a recent thing.  Maybe 30 years ago?  Maybe longer.  An incident that Roland probably thought nothing about even in that moment, but in that moment he had become her hero.  And she has never forgotten.

My dad was a hero just by his example – supporting each of us in our dreams – supporting us from “behind the curtains” never feeling the need to set foot upon the stage himself.  And really not wanting to.  He didn’t have a desire for the praise. 

He was wise with money and knew how to budget and provide.  We may not have been financially wealthy, but daddy kept the family together and saw to it that we would take a family vacation each year. Daddy was a silent hero.

I remember being stranded on the road myself.  Kayla and Corey were with me.  Kayla was maybe about five or six.  We didn’t have cell phones then – and payphones were only a dime.  With the car (I believe I was driving the one that belonged to my grandmother, actually) pulled over to the side, I took each of the kids’ hands and started walking.  A man pulled over to see if we needed a lift.

As I pushed Kayla and Corey into the car, I thought: “What am I doing?  I don’t know this man.  He could just try to steal us and hold us for ransom”

But this “grandpa” who had picked us up became my hero for a moment.  As it turned out he really didn’t live too far from my grandma. 

And there’s another time when my neighbor was stranded on the freeway – with at least six kids in the car.  It was the “hippy era” and those long haired freaks had earned a reputation among the older generation which was less than flattering.  But it was two of those long haired “freaks” that helped us to move along.

And then there are the occasional customer service representatives who are serious about resolving my concerns.  Those are true heroes for making me feel like I am more important than a paycheck.

Strange how such little actions on our part can have such a huge impact on somebody else’s.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Let's Go Camping


          My three boys love camping, especially my youngest.  I think I must have enjoyed it at one time – when I was a youth and had no concept of just how much work goes into it.  My current body is not designed for the discomforts of a frozen or hard ground.  Give me a motel room.

          The first year the Roland and I were married we had purchased two pup tents just before Christmas.  We gave one to Tony on Christmas day and the other one to Randy on his birthday (which was just ten days later).

          At the end of May we took our first camping trip together (and actually the only one I went on, now that I think about it).  Halfway there we learned that Randy had brought his blanket.  JUST his blanket.  No sleeping bag.  He thought a blanket would be all that he needed.  Seriously?  He said he loved camping and then acted as though he had never been.

          We stopped by a second hand store and purchased a sleeping bag for him and a frying pan which we could dispose of after our little three day weekend adventure.  We’d gone for a charity event and set up camp behind the rest stop which provided coffee and food to travelers venturing down Highway 6 – which at the time was reported to be in the top ten of the deadliest highways in the nation. 

          Upon arrival, the boys pitched their tents and went off to explore – leaving the dog (Houdini) behind in one of the tents – which took the Houdini only seconds to destroy.  What were they thinking leaving the dog in the tent in the first place?  The whole idea of bringing him was to keep both him and the boys busy running and exploring.

          Roland and I slept in the van during the day.  He had volunteered us to keep watch during the graveyard shift – which was fine really.  It was far too cold and uncomfortable for sleeping in the van.  We kept a fire going by the road so that travelers could warm themselves up as well.

I understand that there was a whole lot more lively activity during the day.  But that’s when Roland and I would sleep – or try to anyway.  Roland also cooked up hamburgers at very odd hours – like 7:00 in the morning.

          In addition to coffee and bakery goods, we passed out bumper stickers which read, “Pray for me.  I drive Highway 6!”  Because of the weekend program that this organization provided, injuries and crashes had been cut down a large percentage as travelers were able to rest a bit and get something in them to help them stay awake. 

          The boys continued their camping experiences whenever the opportunity would arise – often going with the scouts.  And so would Roland.  They’d go in the dead of winter – and Roland hates the cold.  I remember enjoying those moments when I would have the house to myself.  I enjoyed that a lot more than camping.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Jenna loves to assist

          Jenna loves to clean the church and do volunteer work at the storehouse.  She actually makes a game of it and will stock items on the shelves while I pull merchandise from the warehouse.  Theoretically she’s not allowed in the warehouse for safety reasons.

          When Roland and I have gone to the warehouse, he always wants to do the freezer and sends me in the refrigerator to put out fruit, vegetables and dairy products while he does the meats. 


          We all three went out to the storehouse this morning.  Roland went into the freezer and I pulled boxes for Jenna to open and put away.  She’s most comfortable with the bottom two shelves – though she can reach the third one from the floor.  But there is no way she can do the top right now.  Often it is a stretch for me.

          She is usually happily singing away as she stocks – often putting smiles on those around her.  Only she wasn’t singing today.  And she found something that she found she liked better than stocking shelves.  Opening and breaking boxes down.

          At first the idea did not thrill me – after all she could puncture herself.  But she was careful.  And I actually found myself taking advantage of it.  I don’t like breaking down boxes.  I would stack cans on the top two shelves and hand her boxes to break down.  And then I would return to the warehouse to pull more merchandise and dispose of the used boxes.  Most of the time I went back to the warehouse, I saw Roland looking more like Frosty the Snowman each time.

          Jenna felt a bit cheated and wanted to know just how cold the freezer was.  And while I wasn’t looking, Roland took her back there with him and let her assist.  She felt so grown up!  I think that’s why she likes going there, actually.
          She and Roland are now making cookies.