Poetry Friday: New Friendships Are a Walk Into the Garden of the Unknown

I am hoping that a new volunteer opportunity might provide some new friends. This week on Tuesday, I volunteered at the Monk Botanical Gardens in Wausau, an hour (one way) away. It was my second time there.

Why am I traveling an hour away to volunteer?

Well, I’ve looked for opportunities closer to the cabin and there aren’t many. We live in a rural area. I tried volunteering in the closest town, ten minutes away, at the library two years ago, after we first moved to our cabin in the Northwoods.

I helped set up for a book fair and then, I helped reshelve the books when they got new carpet. It was not a good fit. Long-time volunteers were suspicious of my reasons to be there – helping. I did not feel welcome at all, as my work – putting books in groups of genres at the book fair – was redone by a “regular” volunteer, as apparently, I put things in the “wrong spot.” This was truly not the case, as the assistant library director told me to put the books out for the book sale wherever I felt they best fit.

Admittedly, I must have not known where some “inspirational fiction” went, according to the other volunteer.

I knew instantly, and especially after my second exposure to people at the library, that volunteering there was not going to be a good fit for me.

I went on to check the local hospital – now going further afield at 30 minutes away. It is small – very small. Their clinics (read doctor’s offices – as they are called clinics in Wisconsin) are where we elected to have our health care and their system provides our insurance. I have a background in healthcare – so I thought maybe it would be a good fit for volunteering.

Again, it is not a good fit. After visiting there several times for routine appointments, I just cannot see myself there – pushing a stranger around in a wheelchair or making small talk with someone. I’m not good (read comfortable) with small talk, so I just cannot see myself volunteering at the hospital.

So after some thought, I sought a connection with other gardeners. I had this connection for two decades in the community we came from. Primarily, that connection came through the Master Gardener Volunteer group and associated activities.

In late June, I arrived at the botanical gardens in Wausau to take in their orientation session. Everyone was nice and there was great pride in the gardens. I volunteered for two hours in July. Again, everyone was nice and no one was micro-managing anyone else or telling anyone else what to do or how to do it.

It was obvious that we were all there to help – and that week, it meant to weed the kitchen garden.

A month passed. I traveled and came home. On Tuesday, I returned to the gardens for my second volunteer session. It happened to be harvest night. This came as a surprise and I didn’t know what exactly to do. But, soon enough, I saw there were enough people to help with the distribution of produce to the members who visited. I went and found a place to weed.

It was there that Pat, the director, found me pulling weeds from the path between the broccoli and beets. She remembered me from the month before and asked if I’d be staying to share a glass of cheer and some easy conversation when the volunteering time was up. I begged off.

But, by the time I left, I told her I’d stay next week and bring a snack to share.

I like this group of people. What’s not to like? We’re all there as gardeners and as volunteers – no matter what else we’ve done or are doing in life, we’re there to help.

I don’t know if I’ll become fast friends with any of these ladies. But, I do think it’s my best shot (so far) of making some new friends. And, even if friendship isn’t in the cards, I’ve spent time helping an organization that seems to appreciate its volunteers. That, in itself, can be a rare find.

I don’t have a new poem to share today, so I looked online for one about volunteering. Nothing really struck me as what I wanted to say so I will have to work on one of my own. I started this:

Here I go again, being a volunteer. 
Picking broccoli, brussel sprouts, and beetles,
It’s why I’m here. 

I also hope to make new friends,
Ones who think like me,
Caring for the Earth and all she lends
In our quest for sustainability.

My hands are dirty, but my mind is clear
Helping out the gardens 
Spreads good cheer.

Unfinished draft by Carol Labuzzetta, 2024.

Lastly, my quest to make new friends and find a new place to volunteer is not to get rid of old ones. It is just that I now live far from where I was, and since I always had a sense of community, I felt the need to both giveback and be involved once again.

Poetry Friday today is hosted by Janice Scully of Salt City Verse. Thanks for hosting Janice!