Do unto for others

It's no secret to both of you that I've been a volunteer at a federal prison camp for many, many years. I think it's 14. I've been more consistent with this activity than anything else I've ever done. Which means:

• knitting
• reading
• making art
• sewing
• gardening
• cooking
• dieting
• running
• walking
• weight training
• being married

and probably many other interests have waxed and waned over the course of my life, while making that trip to Alderson has been a consistent commitment since the day I began.

(My current husband and I enjoyed our first date more than 20 years ago, and we've lived in the same house for 16 years. So he wins. But you get my drift; we didn't marry until we'd lived in sin for 10 years. Heh.)

That's not to say I don't miss a week here and there, due to illness (mine or my dad's) or weather. Various things have occasionally happened to prevent me from going. For the most part, though, if it's Tuesday evening, I'm in jail.

Yesterday was the annual Volunteer Appreciation Luncheon. The Praise and Worship Choir – 20 extremely talented inmates – shared their beautiful voices with us both before and after lunch. Lunch was a feast! Cornish hens, baked sweet potatoes, three vegetables, salad, dressing, pie … it was, truly, Thanksgiving in April. (And I was able to stick to my plan without feeling like I was missing out on anything, so yay for that!)

The luncheon also includes a couple hours of training, required of staff and volunteers by the Bureau of Prisons. I'm very comfortable with my involvement with the inmates, and have never felt threatened or frightened or manipulated or intimidated, but the training is mostly how to defend and protect and distance yourself from them. I'm prudent, moreso now than I was in the beginning, but honestly? The women I serve aren't there to hurt me.

If I were going into an institution with  higher security level, or into a male institution, I might feel differently. Alderson – a female camp – is the lowest level of security in the federal system, populated with, for the most part, first-time non-violent offenders.

They made a mistake, chose unwisely, had a lapse in judgement. Been there. Done that. I can't hold that against them, as society does and certainly as the BoP seems to do.

If sharing your heart with federal inmates isn't your thing, that's fine. I truly never thought it would be as meaningful to me as it has been all these years. Volunteering for something, however, will warm you and enrich you and help you grow like nothing else will. Not church, not work, not parenting.

Do you volunteer? How do you share and how does it make you feel? If you don't, United We Serve may help you find opportunities.