I started out volunteering at SAINTS ten years ago. Carol probably doesnt remember but she gave me my first introductory tour, just the two of us. Out in the barnyard I met Spritely, and I could feel Carols love for her in the way she spoke. That was my hook. That one day, that one tour, that one conversation. I became a regular volunteer immediately. Maybe a few months later, Spritely died. I remember standing in the driveway with a couple other volunteers, and Carol coming down the path between the MP and shop, bawling. I remember hugging her and how strong I thought she was, how many times had she been down this exact same path with this same shattered heart. I remember Lahanie and Percy in particular afterwards, calling out, the pain in their voices, the sheer desperate grief. My heart broke for them. I went home that day and fell apart in my husbands arms. He held me while I cried. Then he asked if I still wanted to be involved with SAINTS. He told me there would be more days like this. And there have been, for sure. The time between the tour with Carol and Spritely passing away, SAINTS had already become a part of who I am.
What was the hook that brought you in? When did things solidify for you that this wasnt just something to do outside of the house on Saturdays? What one time (or more than one?) really brought it all home to you? We are always curious what it is that brings people in, whether you are a volunteer, donor, blog reader or staff, and not just what cute face caught your eye but what particular thing reached into your chest and wrapped around your heart and is still there today?