You’re not Alice…, I thought as I peered through the silver bars of the cage at a cat who clearly wasn’t Alice, the usual round, black and white resident of this particular cage. With what I’m sure was a panic-stricken look, I raced to the front desk to inquire about Alice’s whereabouts, hoping that maybe she had been adopted yet feeling a bit down that I hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye. After searching the database, the guy at the front desk relieved the latter of my worries with two simple words: “window box.”

My roommate Alex and I went to the window box and soon spotted little Alice, now with two roommates of her own. As I opened the door to the cage and attempted to hold back the larger of Alice’s new roommates, I coaxed Alice to the crack of the opened cage door and couldn’t help but smile when she looked up at me with her face full of white whiskers before making the jump to quasi-freedom. Once out, she stretched her legs as she took a quick stroll of victory around the room, as if flaunting her newfound freedom in front of all of the other cats. She then casually made her way toward my feet, encircling me like a little furry shark and tickling my leg with her tail until I reached down to pick her up.

At this point, she greeted me as she does every week—an Eskimo kiss on the nose followed by an attack on my name tag. But this week, our visit was promptly interrupted by a herd of squawking children. “Kittyyyyy!” they squealed as they hurled themselves toward me and Alice. I stooped down and said “This is Alice,” reminding them to “Be gentle” as they made over her and ruffled her fur with their little hands. All the while, Alice simply enjoyed being the center of attention. Meanwhile, I was surprised to see how well Alice handled the situation—patient and loving. Now, that’s what I consider a true companion!

I am a first year student new to Madison House and I am currently involved in Holiday Sharing. Making the transition from high school to college has been pretty tough. I came from a small high school where it was easy to stay busy and involved. I spent a lot of time doing community service; it meant so much to me in high school, and more than anything, I wanted to stick with it here. One of the things that has made my transition easier has been my involvement in Holiday Sharing. I went into this program not really knowing what to expect, but so far, I have appreciated every minute of it.

My absolute favorite part was something new to the program this year: going down to the Salvation Army’s store and signing up families to participate in the Angel Tree Program. We went on a Friday, the last day available for families to sign up. Although these were not the specific families that Madison House sponsors, it was still an amazing opportunity to meet people who would benefit from our help. The process seemed a little difficult at first, but after observing a few other volunteers, we got the hang of it and had one on one interaction with the mothers and fathers who needed help this Christmas. Most of the people we saw were extremely grateful for our help and it was so amazing to see how much these parents cared for their children. One man, a father of four young children, came in initially without the proper documents needed to sign up. However, instead of giving up, he came back later with everything filled out and ready to go, just to make sure his kids had something to open for Christmas. His dedication and love for his kids made such an impact on me, and made me realize how important the Holiday Sharing program is to these families.

Often times, it is difficult to feel like I am making a difference, especially when I do not see or interact with the people that need help. After going down to help families sign up, I know that I am making a difference. My office hours this past week included working at the holiday trees located around grounds and asking people to sign up to donate a gift. Looking at the snowmen on the tree, with items like a baby blanket, clothes, toys for boys and girls, and gift cards, I felt a connection with these gifts written on paper and the faces I saw at the Salvation Army. These people really needed our help, and it made me so much more passionate when I explained the program to students passing by, and satisfaction when someone decided to buy a gift. I know how happy these kids will be when they have gifts to open for Christmas and I am especially looking forward to distribution day, when the families that we sponsor through Madison House come to pick up their gifts. I can’t wait to see the smiles on the kids’ faces, that would not have been possible without the love of their parents and the spirit and help of volunteers.

My first semester of first year, I learned what it felt like to value a volunteer experience. In high school, I had done the requisite community service hours to “look good” for college applications, but never enjoyed the experience because it felt like a chore and I had little interest in spending my Saturday making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for six hours.

In my first weeks at Migrant Aid, I was blown away by the experience of “service learning.” I felt that I was providing a valuable service to Elizabeth as I helped her work through history readings, but I was also deeply challenged every week to learn how to be an effective teacher and to learn about this large migrant community right outside the bubble of U.Va. I also felt that Elizabeth and her family were providing me with an enormous service through their endless positive energy that always started my week right, even with the two hours of travel involved.

The hardest experience I had during that semester when Elizabeth’s mother asked me to translate a letter she had received. As I stumbled through the explanation, I had to tell her that the family’s application to Medicaid had been denied because they had not resided in the United States for five continuous years. The shamed look on her face as she quickly retrieved the letter is something I will never forget. That night deeply affected me, and was the first time that I truly understood the plight of the underprivileged in my own country.