Member-only story
I volunteer one day a week for Lifeline, accepting donations of books for sale at the regular bookfairs. The money raised supports our main operation, of providing a service where those feeling in dire need can talk to another human being.
Because I work outside, amongst cars and trucks and forklifts coming and going, I wear high-visibility clothing. Right now I have a bright neon yellow T-shirt with “Lifeline” on the front and “Volunteer” on the back.
I wear it on my bicycle rides to and from the book warehouse. I figure that riding in traffic along a busy road, the life I save might be my own.
I often take the tram home after a long day in the sun, lugging boxes of books about, and this day I was waiting for the tram at the Mitchell stop, looking forward to sitting down with nothing much to do for fifteen minutes or so. Besides, after the morning rush, the service is free for a senior citizen like me.
Another waiting passenger approached me.
“I saw your shirt,” he said, “and I wanted to thank you.”
He told me that he had a friend who had reached the last stop on his own tramline of life, with a failed relationship and…
