Service with a baby on my hip

My heart desires to serve people, to help them feel loved and valued. 

I want to go serve meals at the downtown homeless shelters and encourage these suffering people. I'd like to get my hands dirty helping at animal shelters. I really desire to volunteer at the public school to mentor and encourage those children who aren't blessed with loving parents.

BUT-- I can't. 

I'm not allowed to volunteer at the school with a baby in tow. I get it, I see their point. He'd be more distraction that a classroom can handle. I agree, but my heart still longs to contribute.

I can't endanger my baby by dragging him into a homeless shelter to let him put everything in his mouth- who knows what it's contaminated with? 

I can't try to walk a strange dog with my baby in a stroller, his face being at the perfect height to make a target for some unpredictable dog behavior. I'd rather keep my baby bite-mark free, thank you very much.

Sigh.

For a long time, I felt so  handicapped in my attempts to serve the community. I always felt held back by my darling angels. (Yes, I see the irony. I realize creating a strong family is arguably the greatest service we can give. That doesn't change my yearning to do more.)

This year I found two ways to serve and still keep my little baby safe.

The first solution was taught to me by a very aged, bed-ridden lady. Listen up- this is a good story. She couldn't leave her bed for years, but she still found a way to serve by writing sincere letters of encouragement and mailing them. When she died, her funeral was overflowing the building and inside the chapel there was standing-room only. The speaker of the eulogy asked each person in the audience to raise their hands if they were sent a letter from this sweet lady. Every single person raised their hands. She really blessed a lot of people and made the world a better place from the confines of her bedroom.

Armed with this idea, I started writing cards and mailing them. I realized I could do this while Diego eats Cheerios next to me in his highchair. I have a basket of pretty cards, envelopes, and stamps that I keep handy in the kitchen. When I have 15 minutes of free time, I sit and write a heartfelt note of appreciation to someone in our congregation or community. It doesn't take much time but it's a small way to positively impact someone's day. (Who doesn't love getting mail that isn't an ad or a  bill?)

This week we gave one to the bus driver--- she's pretty cranky so I thought she might feel happier to know we appreciate and love her.

So far I've sent out almost 100 cards. There's some small way I've hopefully brightened 100 days. 

The other service outlet I found is through LDS Indexing. It's an online service project where volunteers read the handwritten records of the past and type the information into a searchable database for genealogy research.

I'm currently digitizing handwritten drafting cards from WW1. It's unexpectedly emotional for me. Some of the draft cards are stained with tears, and the card details verify that these men are leaving behind wives and children. My heart wonders about these people and their stories. History is so fascinating to me...it's interesting to get a little peek into someone else's life story.

It makes me wonder what I will leave behind when I die. What will my life story be?

In my own quiet way, will I have made the world a better place? 

I sincerely hope so.