The circumstances don’t really matter but lately I’ve been volunteering at a local community house that provides goods and services to those less fortunate individuals in our area. After spending the last 30+ years trapped inside a cubicle let me tell you, four hours a night, four nights a week, might not sound like much but I’m here to tell you:

I’m sore.
In the morning, my arms ache and my shoulders hurt,
my knees and joints crack and pop as I struggle to get out of bed
and I find myself making strange grunting noises as I go up and down the stairs.

I’m sore
from unloading delivery trucks filled with boxes and boxes of food,
from sweeping, mopping and buffing what seems like endless miles of linoleum floors
and rearranging furniture in conference rooms to fit the occasion.

I’m sore
from shoveling snow and picking up litter in the parking lots,
unloading trash cans filled to the brim in the dumpster
and scrubbing toilets and sinks and cleaning mirrors

I’m sore
because it’s been a long time since I did any heavy lifting
and my body doesn’t bounce back the way it once did
and I find myself reaching for the bottle of Alleve to ease the pain.

I’m sore
but I sleep better at nights and my mind is comforted
knowing that for the first time in a long time
I’m doing something good for somebody else.

I’m sore
but it’s about time I got off my ass
and made life a little bit easier for somebody other than myself
and I can tell by the look in their eyes and the smiles on their faces.

It’s a good kind of sore.