It's a short drive from Kaye's house on Wildflower Drive to ours. She had spoken with me yesterday to say she would be out on some errands today, would it be convenient for her to drop by in the morning, would it suit our schedule, around eleven?  She had parked in the driveway and gingerly made her way up the walkway which still had some rotting snow and ice on a portion of it leading to the porch. She was wearing good stout winter boots with rubber soles and heels, but at her age it's always best to exert caution. She's almost ten years older than me. She thinks this will be the last year she will volunteer for the Canadian Cancer Society's door-to-door canvass. She has been my area captain for the last decade; before her there had been others, but none as dedicated as she has been.

She always says she's in a bit of a hurry, so she prefers to stand on the porch, where I join her, before she moves on. She's never in a hurry to depart, just feels more comfortable, it seems, standing on the porch, talking. And by this time of year the protected area of the porch with the sun making its presence known, is very comfortable. Her older daughter, she tells me, the one who is a geriatric nurse, has reached retirement age. She plans to indulge herself in her favourite activity; photography. Kay has in the past gifted me with a packet of her daughter's hand-made greeting cards, beautifully shot photos, nicely assembled cards which I very much appreciated. They were her kind gesture in return for the bagsful of detective and crime novels that we have passed on to her after having been read by my husband. They are meant for the reading habit of her son-in-law, and after he reads them they're often put out in a little library maintained by a nearby nursing home.

I have accepted the door-to-door canvass kit from her. I have, this year, turned down requests from The March of Dimes, the Heart and Stroke Foundation, The Kidney Foundation, to canvass. I have determined that I need a break from canvassing, I'm thoroughly sick of doing something I detest, but know is of benefit to the greater society. I have decided to continue with just one of the medical charities, The Canadian Cancer Society. I hate going door-to-door appealing for charitable donations; for any reason, actually. Sometimes the receptions are positive, often they're decidedly not, and I find it difficult to separate my personal sensibilities from the neutrality of representing a charity.

Besides which, the street which I now confine those activities to, the one we live one, the one where I am familiar with most of its residents, has changed so much in the last few years. The original home owners have gradually dissipated, gone elsewhere because of marriage failures and family dispersals due to children maturing and leaving home, or home owners deciding to down-size, or to move to the country, or because they've grown too old and infirm to maintain a house. I now more frequently encounter new residents. Where formerly I was greeted with some degree of courtesy, on occasion I meet with suspicion and hostility, and that pains me.

This isn't an urban street of long standing. It was only created 25 years ago. And it is slowly undergoing a transformation as original owners move and new families take their place. Some of the new families are very young, some without children, some with children; some planning to fill their home with children, others not. Everyone is busy, no one likes to be disturbed by requests such as mine, to surrender a modest donation to a charitable cause, despite that it benefits a large segment of society. I know the feeling.

Kay feels that this year may be her last as a volunteer. She is truly amazing, in her determination to keep busy, maintain a useful life, and remain an integral part of the community. Perhaps in defiance of the limitations that age has placed upon her energies. She too sees the slow and steady decline of people willing to be involved. When she loses a volunteer it is difficult to find a replacement. She feels that when she does leave, there will be a gap, that no one will want to do what she has been doing for so long.