Slipping Haloes

 

Surprisingly, most of the Angels seem to integrate successfully into a team.  They have to; somehow anyone who does not occupy an essential niche seems to sense it and removes himself or herself from the group without prompting.  Occasionally, because the commitment happens to be an exacting task, there is a temptation to find some occupation away from the crowd and whoever is in charge does not know where the missing helper has disappeared.  After all, it is a voluntary job and surely, argues the volunteer; it is permissible to seek one’s own enjoyment once in a while.  But the person in charge of the group has to know with assurance where to find someone to life a guest, to drive a car or to push a wheelchair.  So everyone has to seek permission to disappear, to play a game of billiards or bowls or to go for a swim.

 

But perhaps the greatest nuisance is the person who attempts to dash around taking a greater share of the pushing, the dressing and the escorting to himself.  It is often difficult to assess what help may be required, especially with very vulnerable people some of whom have to cancel their bookings because of illness or accident.  Thus some willing helpers find themselves under occupied.  Having relinquished a week of valuable holiday time, they want to feel that it has been used to the hilt in the task one has volunteered.

 

So Rachel, dashing around like a bluebottle, soon becomes resented, disliked and avoided.  When Mary, having been promised by Doris that she will be collected and taken back to her chalet where she hopes to have a tête-à-tête with her favourite pusher, finds herself been dashed off at full speed to her room.  All her protests are ignored.  Doris will be told that her task has been successfully completed and the exuberant Rachel, her restless nature seeking further onslaughts into more of other people’s tasks, will depart leaving a disappointed Mary alone in her room.  Until, some brave soul, risking retribution, captures back her passenger and pushes Rachel away.  Surprisingly, the insult works.  The energetic helper subsides into quiescence.  She gazes wistfully after the stolen wheelchair with a bewildered expression.  What her thoughts can be, no one can guess.  She does not volunteer to help on any future occasions.

 

But most of our helpers would accompany us for years.  Gradually, the dark hair would show streaks of grey; the wheelchairs would feel like tanks; arthritis would show in slower gait and, perhaps, excessive tiredness until the rigors of advancing years would presepitate an excuse for refusal.  A few more years pass; then a well known face would appear, as a guest.  Others would move away, or have a baby or be unable to get the time off.  Occasionally, someone would suffer an illness which precluded their accepting and occasionally they would disappear from our midst without us knowing. 

 

But even helpers of advancing years can often be fitted into the pattern of work.  If wheelchairs and hefty paralysed folk become too much of a burden, there is the laundry to do daily; outings to be organised; costumes to be designed ready for the end of holiday play and for a number of years the less able team member can feel happily occupied, anyway, experience can be a valuable asset in any group of assistants.