Monday was the last day of April, and out I went that evening, to complete my door-to-door street canvass for the Canadian Cancer Society.  I cannot even remember how many years it has been that I've been going out in the month of April to canvass for the Cancer Society, but for all the years we've been living on this street I've been involved.  The years previous, when we've lived in earlier houses, I was also busy canvassing for that cause and for others.

Halfway through the canvass I had a telephone call asking me to canvass again for the Arthritis Society.  I had already canvassed for the March of Dimes, earlier in the year, and I am truly sick and tired of performing the routine of knocking at doors, soliciting donations, writing out receipts.  It's dispiriting when some people peremptorily turn you away, dismissing you and your mission with more than a hint of contempt.

Not all people do this needless to say, but the few that do, leave a bad impression hard to shake.  On the other hand, coming across those who welcome the intrusion into their privacy at their front door, thanking you for volunteering your time, and giving their donations, large or small with a friendly attitude more than make up for those who disdain the implication of personal responsibility for the quality of the society in which we live.

Generally speaking, people who are hostile to the very idea that they have a personal investment in the community in which they live, not merely the house that they own, who remain on distant, unfriendly terms with those living around them, are those very people who feel no reason to commit themselves to the general good of the community and by extension, society at large.

Those houses where I am very familiar with the occupants represent the people who value their relationship as good neighbours and friends to those who live close by them.  These are the houses where I linger because people greet you with enthusiasm and want to talk about random, often personal, sometimes community events that involve everyone.

I receive general updates on how people whom inclement months have shut into their houses, have fared over the winter.  People are anxious to see their neighbours, pass the time with them, discuss issues, and recount experiences.  And happy to declare their intentions; one neighbour leaving on a walking tour of Tuscany, her fourth trip with a group of older women to Italy.  Another is a man at loose ends who travels often, anticipating a 17-day trip to Jordan and Israel.

I'm told about children who have married, moved to Australia, to Denmark, and who have started their own families, children I recall being young, then teens, and having graduated from university and joined the workforce, suddenly are married and far from their parents who then find a reason to visit these far-off places.

The canvass is done for another year.  I wasn't able to collect as much as I have previously, when I hit the jackpot collecting well over $400, but I did manage $370, and that will have to do.  Our little dog will no longer be upset while I'm out canvassing in the evening, greeting me with howls of anguish on my return, even though my husband has been in the house with him.  Until next time, that is.