The hospice society gave those of us who are volunteers a Christmas dinner. Which was very nice of them.
As part of the whole do, they had collected prizes for, and arranged, a paper bag raffle. You could buy tickets, which weren't terribly expensive, and put them in the bags for the prizes that you were interested in. Then they had a draw out of the bags, from the tickets that had been deposited.
I wasn't terribly interested in the jewelry, or the wine, or the coffee machines. But there was a quilt, a Christmas quilt. Gloria loved quilts, and she loved Christmas. So I put my tickets into that bag.
(I wasn't terribly interested in the carved wooden bells, until I found out, too late to do anything about it, that they were carved from yew wood. The yew tree has been a symbol of death for quite a long time, so I thought that it would have been ironically appropriate for a hospice volunteer. But, by that time I'd already deposited all my tickets, and they'd started the draw, anyway.)
I found out, later in the evening, that a former nurse, living in the area, makes a lot of quilts. She had donated a car full to the chair of the hospice society, for the hospice society to use in fundraising events. (The chair told me that it was a literal carful: she couldn't stuff any more quilts into the car.) The chair had asked if Helen would mind if one of the quilts was used for the volunteer raffle. That's how it came to be a part of the raffle: Helen said yes.
Anyway, I won the quilt.
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