Helping Hands = Happy Hearts

On Wednesday's I will often share some Wend's-Day Wisdom. I even titled my newsletter this (have you subscribed?) This story feels appropriate for some wisdom and today is Wednesday so here goes.

Wend’s-Day Wisdom- Life got you down? The fastest and best way to lift yourself up when you’re feeling low, is to help someone out. Helping hands = happy hearts.

Last May, Matt and I began to volunteer every Monday for Meals on Wheels. We began doing this to serve the seniors in our community. We do it rain or shine and we love it! The recipients are so appreciative for the meager meals and naturally they love Matt! One older woman insists every week that he come in so she can give him a hug and ask how he’s doing. He goes along with it because it makes her happy. Giving her these few moments of joy once a week, well, that makes me happy. I’ve spent a lot of time caring for older loved ones, but they’ve all passed on, and it’s been an adjustment not feeling needed in the same way. That’s why this program is so dear to me. It’s a way to serve a community in need. Delivering a warm meal, a hug, and a moment of our time goes a long way. Especially when for some, this may be the only interaction with others they get each day.

A few weeks ago, all the volunteers received an invitation to an event where we were acknowledged for all the work we do. It felt strange because that’s not why we do it. However, it was nice to be in a room full of people who donate their time each week to feed our seniors. I was surprised to see just how many of us there are.

Speaking of feeding…that’s exactly how the party started. Several city employees showed their gratitude by serving us a meal of hot dogs, potato chips, and an old favorite of mine, ice cream sandwiches. It was perfect for the carnival themed decorations all around the room. While we ate, a few local dance groups provided entertainment. One being a group of senior women who did several Hawaiian dances for us. Their sassy and fun personalities came through as they performed. As I watched, I imagined dancing was a way for them to stay active and found myself appreciating that these opportunities are also available for this community…you know, to keep those ole hips and knees moving. Island music filled the room, hips swayed in rhythm, and I couldn’t help but wonder how many of these women still had their original parts. My thoughts tend to go there now that my knees are long gone. It’s been eleven years since I said goodbye to them and welcomed their replacements, which I’ve named Cheech and Chong—because they are my new joints.

Anyway, I couldn’t help but feel proud of these women for staying active. Movement and staying social are important for the gray matter in our skulls…especially as we get older.

Throughout the night, the hosts would periodically stop to announce raffle winners for prizes that were donated. Matt was excited when his number was called out. “I won! I won I won I won” he hollered out like Old Man Parker, the dad in A Christmas Story, as he marched proudly to the front of the room to collect his prize. No, it wasn’t a leg lamp, but it was a gift certificate to a local restaurant we enjoy going to. Ironically, the last time we went there was after my dad’s funeral almost seven years ago. Dad is one of the reasons we got involved in the program. Hmmmm, I wonder if he had a hand in Matt winning that specific prize vs the spa basket or the Starbucks gift card. Regardless, we look forward to a delicious lunch together.

During the evening, we were also provided with some shocking statistics…some good, some unsettling.

Did you know: 47% of Americans spent an estimated five billion hours volunteering in 2025? Isn’t that amazing?

In the Salt Lake County alone, we deliver around 1,400 meals every day (that does not include the other counties in our state). There are approximately five hundred volunteers who make this possible. In 2025, in Salt Lake County, 17,000 hours were spent volunteering with the Meals on Wheels program. That’s incredible! This is what makes the following statistics so astonishing.

Sadly, we learned that Utah has the highest rates of malnutrition-related deaths among people aged sixty-five and older in the country. This statistic was especially humbling when I opened my pantry and refrigerator this morning.

We had an enjoyable time at this party and appreciated all that went into acknowledging how we serve others.

I am grateful for these Mondays with Matt. It brings my heart and soul so much joy to watch him gather the meals specific to each person and deliver them with his friendly “Have a nice day!” then check off his list when done. Not only do I get to spend this time with my son doing something that feels amazing, but it keeps him active and I can feel his sense of pride as he spreads kindness…something we try to do every day.

It has been one year since we started our new Monday routine, and until last week I have never wanted to “call in sick.” I’d had a rough morning, struggling with some unexpected personal “stuff” related to my parents who passed away a few years back. Some emotions creeped up and tried to ruin the day. In fact, if I could have, I would have taken the day off. However, I couldn’t put them in a bind at the last minute. So, I put on my biggest sunglasses to cover my red, puffy eyes, and me and Matt headed out. I had every intention of hurrying to get deliveries done so I could get back home quickly where I could wallow in my misery. However, the Universe had something different planned for me.

For some reason, many of our friends needed more than a meal from us. One older woman who has a difficult time getting up and uses a walker to get around, was frustrated because her shredder wouldn’t work. The pile of bills on her counter reminded me of my dad. I placed her meal on her table and went to work trying to help. After checking the cord, the outlet, and double checking to make sure it was on, I too was stumped. I decided to move it to a flatter surface (she had it on a chair) and in doing this I found the issue…the lid wasn’t on all the way. I am not tech or electronic savvy, but I was pretty proud of myself when I found and fixed the problem. She was so excited when she heard the sound of the electronic beast munching on her phone bill. As I walked back to my car, I chuckled at the thought of there being a career in IT for me. Easy peasy!

At the next house, the woman asked if I’d get her mail for her. No problem, extra steps for me.

Then the woman who likes to hug Matt, seemed less animated than usual so we gave her a few extra moments and listened as she told us about her granddaughter. She even tried to give Matt the homemade gift the little girl had made for her. I politely declined her generosity and explained that it was obvious her granddaughter had put love into that gift she made especially for grandma. It was a kind gesture, but not one I imagined a child would understand.

At the next house, the woman had been in the hospital and was weak and couldn’t get down the stairs to answer the door. She opened her window and hollered out that she had to refuse the meal because she couldn’t get to me. It’s heartbreaking to think someone might miss a meal because they can’t get down the stairs. Well, I wasn’t having it, so I offered to bring it up to her kitchen for her if she felt comfortable with my offer. She happily accepted and I left feeling relieved that this woman wouldn’t be missing her meal that day.

The last woman hit me the hardest. She is a tiny thing, maybe 5’ and 80 pounds. She lives on a busy street and struggled to get her garbage cans up the curb onto the sidewalk. When I realized she needed to get them down a narrow driveway to get to her backyard, Matt and I jumped out of our car and rushed to help her. She declined our help and shared that the people who normally do this for her had moved. Again, the stubborn girl in me wasn’t having it…remember that whole hip thing? I worried she was going to fall, bringing the cans down with her. Her politeness could not beat mine and she finally gave in when I pointed out there were three cans and three of us. “Let’s make a party of it” I sung out with excitement and grabbed one can while Matt grabbed the other. With a sweet, grateful smile, she agreed. The three of us marched down the drive to put the cans away. As I wiped my hands on my jeans I turned to look at her and she just stood there…sobbing. Her voice trembled, her big blue eyes sparkled through her glistening tears, “Why are you so nice?”

“Don’t you do that.” I playfully scolded her. “My tear ducts are all dried up.” We both chuckled. “We’re happy to help with anything you may ever need.” I told her. And she smiled at me with a look of deep gratitude.

Yes, my tear ducts were dried up, but a few tears managed to surface as I walked back to my car. It broke my heart to think that to some, we are considered “so nice” just by helping put garbage cans away…an act that should never take a second thought…especially for those who are in a position where they could use help.

My heart felt good, but it also felt heavy. I now know why the Universe made this happen for me that day. I needed to be uplifted. My soul was hurting and the best Band-Aid was to be there for someone in need. Though puffy, red, and tired, my eyes helped me to see the six people who needed me that day.

I have always believed serving others helps when we may be feeling overwhelmed with our life challenges. The advice I often give is to find a way to serve in some capacity. However, that morning, I had forgotten my own advice. I’m grateful to the Universe for stepping in and reminding me.

I have always loved and had a passion for helping others. I don’t do it for recognition, to be acknowledged, or even thanked, I do it because there is a need. What I learned that day is that kindness reaches farther than we realize — sometimes enough to bring someone to tears.

This story doesn’t end there.

I couldn’t have predicted how our route would go that day. I knocked on the door of one of our last clients, then as I waited, I turned to soak up the rays of the morning sun. I saw in the distance something floating toward me. At first glance I thought it was a falling leaf. I looked for a tree and felt for wind and couldn’t find either. As it got closer I realized a leaf didn’t make sense, but it was clearly coming my way. As it neared, I finally realized what it was…a large yellow butterfly flying straight for me. Then, it stopped, directly in front of my face…and just hovered there. I stopped breathing. Is this for real? I thought. We watched each other for a moment. I feel like my mom comes to me in butterflies, and I did feel like this was her. But I was hurting and needed space. Still trying to process the emotions I felt that morning, I found myself talking to this butterfly, expressing how I felt. It stayed for a moment longer, as if it heard me, then just like that it turned and flew back the exact direction from which it had come. Before it left, I swear I could feel our shared pain.

Still, it was a moment of respect between me…and a bug. A part of me carries regret for how I reacted and wish I could instead revel in the magic of that moment. That said, I believe my mom knows.

Wend’s Day Wisdom- We are needed by others and at times we are the person in need. In a world filled with uncertainty, frustration, and division, it’s comforting to know so many people are still choosing kindness, service, and love. There’s nothing more fulfilling than helping others…and when our hearts are full of joy, it shows.

If you’re interested in raising that volunteer rate from 47%, I highly recommend the Meals on Wheels program.