You know, the kind that lets the grass go to seed and the merry-go-round slow sadly to a halt. It is that kind of apathy that sits idly by as the weeds grow, only to let out a whimpering bark, no bite, when the merry- go-round finally recedes from view into the brush.
I do. I detest apathy, which is why I am so happy in Cleveland.
Someone mowed that grass. Someone painted that playground. Someone else planted flowers by the sign in the middle of the night. No one saw him, but someone cares.
You know who you are. You might be the one who runs the organization, or ties the bows on the baked goods, or arranges the chairs and puts the coffee on before the other ‘someone’s arrive. You might have stuffed envelopes, or made phonecalls. You are the PTA and the PTO and the HOA and the boosters and the classroom coordinators and co-chairs of thisandsuch – that little thing you do that you probably wouldn’t even put on your resume.
“Oh, yes, and I do a little volunteering when I can.”
That is what they say, those ‘someones.’
And, now it is Fall again. The grass is starting to grow and the paint might be chipping and all those organizations shift into gear - meeting in dining rooms and libraries and coffee houses.
Maybe you are the type of person who looks at the picture and sees opportunity. You want to mow the grass, play with the child, start a grass-roots organization to save the art of playtime for all children in America. Is that you?
Maybe your calendar seems full and your heart seems full and you would rush by with no time to spare. Is that you?
This Fall, open that lovingly-stuffed envelope. Go to the meeting. When you walk by that little girl in the park, give her just the slightest push on that merry-go-round.
If her smile is not enough, print this out. Let me thank you. You know who you are.
Here is a 'thank you' bouquet. I should also be thankful that we had a little time to pick the flowers before the mower came.