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Caring is a Profession of sharing Love

I had returned from a heavy teaching day at a wonderful care home, and I was inspired to write a piece that reflected the type of people I had taught.

"I love my job, now where did that come from? I close my front door and make my way up the hill to work. I’ve worked in Care for 10 years now and still walking the same walk, up the same little hill, to the same special place. I pass number twenty three. God I love my job, now where did that come from?

I hear a door open and know its number 23, “Tom, Tom” I turn and smile, at Rosa making her way down the path. Hi Rosa how are you? “Can’t complain, no point moaning Archie’s deaf as a post, so I would be wasting my breath.”

Tom smiles, “how’s your hip Rosa?” “Doing good, thank you, no problems.” “It’s the other bits that have to keep up I’m worried about”.

“How’s Margaret getting on, has she settled in up there? We are worried about her, can you tell her Timmy is settling in nicely and spends most of the day on Archie’s lap.” “He makes out he doesn’t like the cat, but he chats away to it when he thinks I can’t hear.” “I keep telling him not to stroke Timmy so much, as he’ll be bald as a Coot by Christmas.” Tom assures Rosa that Margaret is fine but a little sad because of the cat.

“I will give her your love and when you come up tomorrow why don’t you bring Timmy.” “Oh can I, let me tell Archie he will be so pleased give his lap a rest.” She turned and slowly made her way inside. Tom could hear her calling Archie Archie and smiled.

God I love my job, and now I know why. People in all their different shapes and colour’s make my life a truly special place."


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