What Philanthropy Taught Me About Humanity.

As I continue working on my book, each chapter provides deeper insight into how life has evolved. The stories often intertwine, crossing similar paths and revealing recurring themes. Among the most powerful lessons are those centered around philanthropy.

My journey began at the age of twelve.

I desperately wanted to work, but opportunities were limited. Beyond babysitting, I found myself volunteering at the local swimming pool. There, I learned how to engage with others, organize events, and spend time focused on something positive rather than the stresses that surrounded me.

For the first time, I felt a sense of purpose. I felt as though I was making a difference.

My grandmother often told me, "Give back whenever you can. When you do the right thing, you can rest your head at night knowing you've done your best."

Those words stayed with me.

As the years passed, I continued volunteering and performing random acts of kindness without seeking recognition. I didn't do it for praise. I did it because it felt right.

Later in life, after having two amazing sons, I knew this was an example I wanted to set for them. I became involved in our community through schools, women's shelters, and homeless shelters. During my marriage, I often found myself discussing the importance of giving back and how philanthropy could be part of both personal and business values. While our perspectives frequently differed, those conversations reinforced my own beliefs.

A few years later, our business closed, and I began working part-time for an insurance company. Earning my own income provided a level of independence I hadn't fully appreciated before. It was a new chapter that opened unexpected doors.

As I settled into my role, I got to know people from various departments. It didn't take long to notice a disconnect between teams. Naturally, I became involved with the social committee, helping organize events and bring people together. Eventually, I was asked to speak at a company Christmas event.

Following that event, I had the opportunity to speak with the Regional Vice President. I shared my observations about the disconnect between departments and asked whether I could create a volunteer committee within the organization.

He agreed, with one condition: volunteer activities would take place outside of working hours so they would not interfere with business operations.

I agreed wholeheartedly.

My goal was never to create obligations. I simply wanted to provide opportunities for people to connect while giving back to the community.

So I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.

Every few weeks, I organized volunteer opportunities. The group steadily grew. Together, we served meals, supported local charities, participated in fundraising events, and celebrated survivors. We spent time making someone else's day a little brighter.

One event remains especially meaningful.

Our team volunteered at Sorrentino's Compassion House, preparing and serving a four-course meal for women receiving cancer treatment. One coworker's son joined us and provided live acoustic music throughout the evening.

At the time, we knew very little about the women staying there. We were simply there to serve.

Later, I was called into my manager's office to discuss how the volunteer program was progressing. During that conversation, I learned that one of the women we had served was the mother of a brokerage owner connected to our company.

He had reached out to say he was proud to be associated with an organization that demonstrated such genuine care for the community.

That had never been my objective.

Yet something important emerged from that experience: simple acts of kindness often create ripples we never see coming.

The success of the volunteer committee eventually led to a recommendation that we expand the model across Canada. I worked with Human Resources to create simple tools and processes that local offices could use to connect with charities and organize volunteer opportunities.

What began as a small idea evolved into something much larger.

Not only were we helping our communities, but we were also building relationships across the country. People were connecting beyond job titles and departments. Work became more than completing daily tasks; it became an opportunity to contribute to something greater.

Eventually, I decided to pursue a career in the non-profit sector, leaving behind the security of what was familiar in order to follow what I loved.

Not long afterward, I learned that the company had introduced a paid volunteer day for employees, allowing them to give back during work hours.

That was rewarding to see.

My own volunteer journey continued. One experience in particular left a lasting impact on both my younger son and me.

Once a week, a group of volunteers would prepare food at home and meet outside a homeless shelter. We would set up tables and serve meals to those waiting to enter for the evening.

My son and I became known as the "mashed potato family."

One evening, while cleaning up, he witnessed something that challenged beliefs he had heard from others earlier in his life.

He noticed a young man whose appearance matched many of the stereotypes people often judge unfairly. He had tattoos, wore his pants low, and had a baseball cap turned backward.

But what my son saw next was something entirely different.

The young man gently placed a blanket around the shoulders of an elderly gentleman and carefully helped him to his feet.

My son turned to me and asked,

"Mum, did you see that?"

"Yes," I replied. "What do you think?"

Without hesitation, he answered,

"They were wrong."

I stood there feeling both pride and awe.

I didn't need to lecture him. I didn't need to correct anyone's opinions. Life had provided the lesson.

What he witnessed that evening was humanity.

That moment reinforced something I have come to believe deeply: philanthropy teaches us that we are far more alike than we are different.

Doing the right thing is not always about reaching into your pocket.

Sometimes it is about reaching out your hand.

It is about connection.

It is about understanding.

It is about creating something bigger than yourself.

And often, the greatest gift is not what you give to others, but what you learn about humanity in the process.