2026 Volunteer Appreciation Art and Poetry

It came so fast I didn't even hear it.
Where was God, his Son, his Spirit?
Now he wakes up to a nightmare which
Can't be dispelled by the sun's rays through
any dreamcatcher,
Those happy thoughts, happy days replaced
by a cold, blank, numb stare at his picture,
While some poet somewhere
tries to capture his grief.
That's me, and I can't do it
so I'll keep this brief,
then go back to my pages where I explore
my own failings and loss, which
aren't trivial, or nothing, but
they're not this, no,
I can't pay what his cost.
And I can't carry the weight,
All I can do is go to my own place of hurt and
realize he is in his own room of kind
larger, and emptier, with far less hope to dig through and possibly find
amidst the memories of possible futures, while
staring at the four walls of despair -
a floor that's falling as if it doesn't care
to remain, and a ceiling that before wasn't there.
This, O volunteer, is why I call this piece a prayer-
Not because I believe, or do you, in what's right, or fair,
or true, but, to be one more breath for you,
one more particle of oxygen, or something, in the air
as you pass through a time that can't heal,
Not this one, not this time, no;
For this one there's no stitches, no panacea, no superglue and
there's no closure,
like a prayer with no amen,
It remains to be prayed again, and again, and again; Still,
If every breath maintains life, every breath a prayer,
whether shallow, ragged, merciless,
then it's my breath, my prayer for you,
for those of us,
that somewhere, someday, somehow, life
would grant you its miracle
like a grace.

Raymond

Now, who will pray for peace?

The intersession ceases

The movement has been stilled

The mantra has been spoken

Though the cup's still being filled, the curtain remains rendered

The world is still at war

Powers-that-be have not surrendered

And I am not as warm

Without you in our circle.

For someone who professed to not believe in hope,

I've never seen more;

It was as though you knew What hope was for;

You gave so much, even though,

We knew one day you'd have to go;

You spoke of the change of season

If for no other reason

Than the adversary of time

The numbers of our age

Faculties closing down, like factories;

Turning to the final pages

Of a story well-read, well-written

A time to savour, a time to quicken,

Some things we fix, others remain broken

Don't let your own mantra remain unspoken, Joan,

Keep your chin parallel to the earth let this be a time for rebirth - Breathe in, breathe out

Move slowly, contemplate

(Yes, we'll call it thinking)

An earth renewed

All people clothed and fed

All choosing love, not hate

The birth will now conclude

The people moved to where they've been led

Did you hear her, how she said,

for All people to choose peace instead;

Now I know that some God heard,

After 94 years of the words spoken from her heart, because

the change she prayed for has begun to start

In me, in me, in me,

Set all people free... in me.

Raymond

Choosing to be here
Among us
Past difference and division
Over exiled ways and castaway plays
You see

Finding something real
Within us
Not to sink anymore
In cesspools and broken tools
Set free

Make this bargain
Between us
For nothing in return
But shared light beyond the fight
Agreed

One of the posters in the hallway to my supervisor’s office reads, “If our hopes of building a better and safer world are to become more than wishful thinking, we will need the engagement of volunteers more than ever.” The poster attributes the statement to Kofi Annan. The validity of that statement rings truer especially in Canadian federal correctional facilities.

Every year hundreds of Canadian volunteers dedicate their precious time and skills providing valuable services to federally incarcerated individuals and assisting CSC to fulfill its mission. To say that volunteers are an indispensable part of CSC will not be an overstatement.

Most of these volunteers are persons of faith. They believed that all people, incarcerated or not, share that common life force which binds us together as a very large human family. And each volunteer has fashioned this conviction to connect and help part of the most marginalized members of their “human family” as he or she has been able through a volunteer work to federally incarcerated individuals across Canada.

Even though we know them under the generic name volunteers, mostly we relate to them in first name bases: Bob, Carla, Chantal, Denise, Fran, Heidi, Herb, Jason, Jeff, Jim, Maryrose, Mike, Pam, Park, Paula, Phil, Reid, Suzan, etc.

Some would come to prison to hold one-on-one meetings with us. Some arrange a telephone link and give us a listening ear when we call them; Some would remember our birthdays and send us a card. (For some of us that will be the only birthday card we receive); Some drive us to our escorted temporary absence location. Some teach a creative writing class in prison. Some run an ethno-cultural book club for inmates while others a meditation class and the list is endless. What more shall I say? For the space would not be sufficient to give individual accounts of people who through their valuable volunteer works within CSC connected to me and to other inmates as fellow human beings and who ultimately imparted dignity, confidence, self-worth and a straighter statute for generations of prisoners across Canada. What more shall I say? I think, I must, as a believer, go on to say in the further words of the Psalmist: “I will thank you forever, because what you have done” (Ps. 52:9).

T.G

It is staggering how many volunteers I have known and known well, over 20 years of incarceration. It’s even more staggering just how long I’ve known some of them. This speaks to their commitment and loyalty toward us, knowing it serves society well that we’ve been shown some caring attention. I am sure it makes a safer society. I have been grateful recipient of their generosity of spirit and support. One man in particular facilitates weekly passes for me, out of a medium security prison, to AA meetings once I street for 2 years. I’m turn, this contributed a lot to my making to minimum security. There are two married couples I’ve known since the beginning of this sentence, 20 years now. Without question they helped keep my sanity in a toxic, confuse and confusing environment. Honestly, the best programs I did inside were arranged and run by volunteers. These include AA, SAA, M2, Restorative Justice, AVP, Bible Studies, Chapel Services, NVC, Bridges, Yoga, WHOS, Book Club, etc. CSC depends on volunteers to do the meaningful work of rehabilitation. They provide meaningful materials and skills, not only to survive years in the system, but to bring hope and motivation to one day live responsibly and crime free in the community. I have firsthand knowledge of how difficult and exhausting the approval and re-approval process is for them to continue coming in and work with us. They must be committed! Conversely, they are well aware how difficult our circumstances are living in these environments. Therefore, they have much empathy for us. It feels real good bring sincerely cared about. So, I thank you so much, all volunteers, for the humanity and dignity you bring us.

Mark S.

Love comes in many forms…

AA has 12 Steps, one meeting a week
God’s grace upon us, His strength for the week

His blessing in service, done by select few
Volunteers refresh us like the morning dew

Monica and Jeff, Jason and Jim
Committed and loyal, impossible to mim… ic

Thank you, thank you, we all thank you
Thank you and thank you, again, we thank you

Our lives enriched, they help us bloom
Can’t deny, when they’re in the room

Sacrificing other moments to give us their time
Not our cost or money, it’s all on their dime

What can be said about people like that
Proof of God’s angels in our own habitat

Thank you, thank you, we all thank you
Thank you and thank you, again, we thank you

Mark. S

A seed is planted,
At its core there is a strength, cemented.
Under the suffocating weight of the soil, there is no light...
Not just at night.

A point of light emerges, ever so slight.

It grows upwards, reaching in the direction of light it cannot see.
The Grower unfurls the veil,
Allowing light to dance joyfully
Outside, and piercing inward; parting as a board struck with a nail.

Its stem is stressed under its weight.
The Grower supports the plant with string and stake.
The season is getting on, its fruit late.
The Grower clears the path and the bloom takes shape.

The plant’s peers tower over it. Yet the Grower gives it the same care.
From it comes a single fruit. The plant, less fruitful than the others elsewhere.
But at the center of the fruits the same pit.
Its core strengthened, its fruit ready to bare.

- DD

My name is Michael and I would like to bring thanks this day to your door.
I am a God who has the opportunity and the age to live once again... for today,
tomorrow and for all who appreciate the fine art of poetry.
Every WAR that wages it's toil can be found by the men and women who scroll through the drifting and cascading sands of enchanters DREAM… whom charms the page of history… you know what they say about time. It serves those who measure it well.

Thanks be to you this day for your good heart…
that paves the way in all believers who listen to the song that plays upon their hearts.
I am the Era of Vellum…
I am the feather in your quill…
I am the crown of life that weaves a storm in an imaginative heart filled passion.
I am the holy light that lives in your eyes.
I am the words… works… and wiles of the Eternal candle behind your eyes.
I am the spirit of Grace that usher’s you down the tracks of Life.
I am the art… on the wall.
I am the bob in the ocean.
I am the mattt in the walk of enthusiasm on the foundation of reason..
I am the poet and champion and the passion that burns for righteousness.
I am the son, the daughter, the mother and the Eternal Father who I am.
Do you know me child, we are forever the bridge of light.

My name is Michael and these words are pened while angel,
holy spirit… and cherrubum and Arch Angels are my Eternal dream that lives,
Evolves like the sun that glides across the sky.
Passion is fire… that are Lyrics of Life and propels the humble soul to care for the world...
Do you know me child… If you should ever need help child... pray these words… while your hands are above my Eternal kingdom.
We are the force of cognition in every wish that cries in the eye of every passion that creates a memory with Aspiration… that Life’s the heart to yurning.

May these words be a decoration upon your day.
Michael Angel of God

Our volunteer was arriving. As she gets the art supplies out of the car the long coils of devil's rope sparkle atop the perimeter fence and catch her eye. She isn't scared. She was just somebody else for a few breaths. She carries on walking towards the principal entrance going over in her mind's eye if she's forgotten anything. Her case feels light but maybe its because she still savors her last time here; when she'd made that special breakthrough - flash bolt of inspiration that sparks light into an inmate's darkness to reveal a vision. This vision was described by the inmate so torrentially that the others stopped mingling to see who was bugging out. She smiles at the memory.

At the main gate a guard inspects her case's contents. He won't find her power among the paints and brushes. Not even the body scanner can detect inspiration personified. As much as they may want to they cannot turn her away. She has overcome the screening process obstacles and satisfied today's inspection. Her spirit could rest a little now.

She carries on past the lonely brick walls. She was warned of the danger inmates pose but experience has rounded off that edge. The worst she gets is someone looking for free stuff because he wants to live a fuller life and get involved with people who ordinarily pay no attention to him. She knows what he's about and he knows she knows but it matters not. She was learning as much from him as much as he probably learned from her. Inspiration paying off. Give it out and you get more back but holding on to it makes it slip away.

Sometimes the strain of volunteering is talking with troubled people and making them feel like they didn't make a mistake attending her group. Entertain them almost. She cares profoundly and has much to offer. We are so glad.

Andrew

When I was a child, my grandfather would often say, “Someday, you can be replaced by a robot.” This reality has now come to pass. Our jobs, our roles and our relationships can now be replaced by Artificial Intelligence.

Our guards, teachers, healthcare staff, clinicians, warden and even chaplains can now be replaced by man-made technology. We even have algorithms for a pet, spouse and companions.

Our volunteers at GVI cannot be replaced. They have what AI will never be able to replace: altruism. They are the heart and soul of this institution with Creator-made characteristics of compassion, generosity, dedication, commitment, desire and purpose to serve a cause.

Giving from the heart and choosing to make a difference on this planet cannot be programmed. They are the REAL DEAL that connects us to what it truly means to be human.

Energized by the light within and batteries NOT included.

Thank You to all our volunteers from our hearts to yours.

Barbara

Bruised and broken
Hurt and alone
Trying to find peace;
A volunteer in training
Answered the phone
That phone call
Was over three years ago
In these three years since,
You have dedicated your
gifts, talents, and skills
to helping others.
You have shown your
caring and compassionate ways,
guiding me along my journey,
and never giving up on me.
You show up week after week,
allowing the Holy Spirit to guide you.
You consistently see the good in me
and are a glowing example
of a positive spiritual leader,
a dedicated volunteer, and
a passionate individual.
You have helped me grow
in so many ways,
and there's not enough
ways to show my appreciation - 
So I will end with this…
Thank-you, truly,
For everything you do!

By Kayla R.

Sobriety

My greatest difficulty,
But my ultimate accomplishment.
One learns to love themselves & life itself through it.
It brought back family, love, trust & most of all, life.
Sobriety.
Always telling myself, “Way to go!”
It’s my meaningful & responsible choice & I will always choose that path
As it’s the path to enlightenment.
Sobriety.

Ali

This letter is in reference to the Painting of Queen Nefertiti by Martina shown above

I wanted to show how much we appreciate you coming in and taking time to share books with us. Reading has become one of my favorite past times, and I can always count on you to be here to keep the books coming. No matter what life has dealt you, you have managed to show up here religiously to make sure we have book club. I admire you and want to thank you from all of us here. I hope you like the painting.

Thanks again,

Volunteering is the art of helping our neighbours,

Without asking anything in return: it is loving one another.

Having your heart in the right place, lending an ear,

Offering support, being creative.

Listening is an art form for volunteers

Who give their time and leave a positive impact:

With them, we are never alone.

They deserve to be loved by all. They are full of kindness,

They do not boast about it, they do not swell with pride,

They do not look out for their own interest.

Volunteers look forward to helping their neighbour

And are inspired to give their time.

They remain dedicated, even in the face of trials and tribulations:

It is a challenge, yes, but a commitment which elevates us.

Let us recognize their devotion, their kindness,

And the time they offer us.

It is loving one another. Thank you!

- Michel C.

I thank you for being who you are, because you have become masters of your craft -
the craft of helping others and believing in us, all of us
who are here in provincial and federal correctional institutions.

Because we deeply need people like you in our lives, I am taking this precious moment
first and foremost to say a big THANK YOU!

You, dedicated volunteers who take on various tasks in different areas of intervention -
addictions, violence, suicide prevention, and especially rehabilitation.
I recognize the time you dedicate to us, and that all of you believe in us
so that we may reintegrate into society by choosing a better path,
a path made possible through your support.

My gratitude toward all of you, you “Angels of Kindness”,
can never be fully expressed.
Still, I want to show this appreciation in my own way,
to honour each and every one of you.

To all of you dedicated volunteers,
you have given me the opportunity to see my life differently -
to take the time to truly listen to people,
and not simply hear them.

For so long, I was blinded by my life choices,
embracing the wrong things and surrounding myself with the wrong people,
prioritizing harm and darkness.

But now, thanks to your support and that of correctional staff
and their programs,
I have learned to think more clearly about my thoughts and actions.
I have accepted the light, choosing a straighter path
and leaving my buried demons behind.

Once again, a thousand and one times thank you
for your precious time.
To all of you dedicated volunteers:
peace and love in your hearts.

Sincerely,
ORESTIL