Waterloo Public Library Digital Collections

Waterloo Chronicle (Waterloo, On1868), 20 Apr 1983, p. 6

The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

PAGE 6 â€" WATERLOO CHRONICLE, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 20, 1983 This is a little tale about ‘"nones."" Of all the days, weeks, months of the to the good causes, "none‘‘ is more im April 18â€"24, National Volunteer Week. Why? é'()ll-f;éone was once asked what his favorite book was, and he replied "the dictionary, because all other books are in §t." The same can be said for volunteers. Every agency, every organization, every society has the right to be proud of itself, but just stop and think for a minute â€" where would any of them be without volunteers? The answer is fairly obvious. To give of one‘s time in selfless sacrifice for the benefit of others, to help make this world a better place to live in, well, right now we just can‘t think of any act more deserving of a hearty salute. _ ( “Xi{é aar;fié this week of volunteer celebrations, ‘"none" will be more important than the Senior Volunteer Recogniâ€" tion Dinner held Tuesday night at Knights of Columbus. . In the eightâ€"year history of the event, the invitation list has swelled from 75 in 1976 to 341 this year, truly a statistic for our seniors, Adult Rec Centre staff and volunteers to be jointly proud of. _ If this is all sounding just a trifle mushy to you, we regret you weren‘t on hand Tuesday to see Mayor Marjorie Carroll single out special award winners. Like Mary Ann Holowaty and Audrey Fietsch, for 10 years donors of time, expertise, creativity and encouragement. Like cheerful Marie Riemer, who since 1966 has played a major role in the cooking of some 61,200 meals at the Centre. Like Ruth Jacobs, who despite undergoing heart and eye surgery this year, has continued to be Mrs. Everything to seniors. And like Friedel Jabs, who has contributed to any number of seniors‘ programs within the city. I Would that we all were injected with the lifeâ€"blood that makes these and other volunteers what they are â€" the cornerstone of our society, filled with the compassion, the desire, to make this a better world for everyone. Humans, though not as tenacious and purposeful as the ant, nor as busy as the bee, have much in common with them. Ants, of course, can‘t swim. Or they can, but they can‘t hold their noses when they go under, so they‘d drown. Who‘d want to be an ant? Bees, on the other hand, can fly and we can‘t. But they are unable to jump, even to a conclusion and we can, so that evens We don‘t have the singleâ€"mindedness of ants. They know where they are going. We don‘t. We go wandering about and get squashed. They do too, of course, but at least they were headed somewhere. Bees bumble, but never on the scale that we do. They zero in on a flower. We stagger into a cactus. They go, ‘"‘Vroom, vroom!‘" We flood our motors and go, "‘Kaâ€"whuck, kaâ€"whunck, kaâ€"aâ€"aâ€"glunk!" There are other similarities and difâ€" ferences, none of which proves that humans are superior. Ants don‘t have sexual hangâ€"ups. They know that they are workers, or soldiers, or whatever. Humans don‘t, half the time, know whether they are punched, bored or kicked in with a _ Bees also know who and where they are. Like us, they have a Queen, but theirs doesn‘t have to consult the Labour Party terfdoo Chronicle PIERRE FOR ONCE wOU LIBERAL Guys Mail Registration Number 5540 established 1854 HAD A T ‘m *** CAREâ€" ? published every Wednesday by Fairway Press, GET JImVOLVED YOuURSELFP ; a division of Kitchenerâ€"Waterioo Record Ltd., owner J 225 Fairway Rd.S., Kitchener, Ont. B > address correspondence to Waterioo office: ~ k 24 : 45 Erb St. E., Waterloo, Ont. N2J 1L7, telephone 886â€"2830 < P T Waterloo Chronicle office is located in the Harper, Haney and White â€" 0 P Law Office Building (rear entrance, upper floor). Parking at the rear P R k. of the building. Open Monday to Friday. 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m f y . ue " am| °_ * t" ate Publisher: Paul Winkler N A ! fse~ Manager: Bill Karges P â€"~ B ‘ Cns Editor: Rick Campbell é %l 3 [ ' % B â€"=f \ > s G / p / None better Z2 tha / P & t3 + PA Ti LA qz Ne 5 % o ‘ P 1’:’ j 2 4 a little tale about "nones."‘ /’ !f““ f ‘) t# 2 5 1e days, weeks, months of the year that we dedicate M ;; YA â€" \Xps o o o i6 + i d causes, "none‘‘ is more important than this week, on 2 ’ A4zâ€"= /6\ usf» â€" 7 4 a â€"Natinnal Unluntoor Week â€"isa~ * â€" ~~ (A _ JS o â€" ‘ BILL SMILEY published every Wednesday by Fairway Press, a division of Kitchenerâ€"Waterloo Record Ltd., owner 225 Fairway Rd.S., Kitchener, Ont. address correspondence to Waterioo office: 45 Erb St. E., Waterioo, Ont. N2J 1L7, telephone 886â€"2830 wipes out the workers. That automatically creates new jobs. Imagine a world in which bees had unemployment insurance. You‘d not only have a bee in your bonnet, but a bee in your bum, your brain and your bra. Unlike us, ants don‘t worry about their ants. We have poor aunts who must be kept under cover, rich aunts who must be toadied to and crazy aunts who threaten to come and stay with us. Bees don‘t bother much about other bees. They just buzz about, sucking honey. What a life. They have no rotten kids, frigid wives, drunken husbands, goofy grandchildren, aged parents. So far, it looks as though we‘ve got the short end of the stick and the ants and the bees are in clover. But there‘s one thing that drags them down to our level. We all live in cells. You didn‘t know this? You say humans have free will? You think we can call the shots, be masters of our own destiny, choose between good and evil, live as long as we like, go to heaven or hell, decide what to have for dinner? Nonsense. You are sitting in a cell as you read this. 1 am sitting in a cell as I write it. Maybe your cell has a refrigerator and an electric stove and mine has an ashtray and a filing cabinet. But they are cells. At night, we move from the TV cell to the cell with the platftorm where we, for no reason, expect to go to sleep. in the Harper, Haney and White upper floor). Parking at the rear iday. 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. "As long as you are getting some sort of income, you will be a respected member of our Society ... I cannot buy the notion that our Society has any fundamental belief in work itself." We wake up in the same cell, after nightmares about being in a cell and proceed to a smaller cell where we peer at ourselves, shake our heads gloomily and remove various normal blessings. Can you imagine a bee shaving his Godâ€"given whiskers? Then we romp down through a vertical cell with no windows to another cell with orange juice and coffee. Ants and bees get spilled sugar and honey. No coffee, no tea, no caffeine problems. _ Next, we leave this cell for a mobile one, with FM radio, window wipers and autoâ€" matic knees, legs, windows. Meanwhile, the ants and the bees go about their business, getting exercise, fresh air and a keen curiosity about what‘s going to happen today. We know nothing new is going to happen today. We go to a big cell, where ladies type in a little cell within a bigger cell. We pick up our little cellular pieces from the ladies and go off to our individual cells, where we spend the entire day convincing other people that they should be happy to even have a cell. Sometimes we are happy. We go to a big cell and browse around, humming and snuffling things and touching the untouchâ€" ables. But it ends all too soon. We are brought to a tiny cell where a young woman punches out some tentacles that drag us back to the big cell, where the It is written Queen Bee informs us that we have no taste, no common sense amd less inâ€" telligence than a bee or an ant. . â€" While this tirade is taking place, what are the ant and the bee doing? Biting, stinging? No, they are anting around and beeing around, with no sense whatever that they are the lowest of the low, dumb slobs, cretins. The words don‘t mean anything to them. Some day, humans will rise to the leve! of the ant and the bee. They will accept their cells, instead of trying to kick the sides out of them. They will do what they Someday, humans will stop gossiping about each other. Ants don‘t. Someday, humans will stop stinging each other. Bees don‘t, except when you Nf them. Someday, humans will stop asking, ‘"*Why?‘" The word is not in the vocabulary of ants and bees. On the other hand, perhaps we are not lost in the cells. Ants can multiply, but they can‘t divide. Bees can buzz, but they can‘t beam. But humans must have a care. If they don‘t, the theme song of the Twentyâ€"first Century might well be, ‘"My cell is your cell. Your cell is my cell. And our cell is Maybe there‘s a future for us, if we can just get out of those cells. are supposed to do, without a lot of ifs, ants WLU Social Work professor Dr. John Farina â€" SEE PAGE 7

Powered by / Alimenté par VITA Toolkit
Privacy Policy