I go to work every day, And everyday I find I walk through the door with a smile, And am replied to in kind.
Some days the smiles are happy, Joyous in their whims. Some days they are more frantic, Closer to a pasted grin.
The smiles pass then from us to you When we see you at our door. Wanting to help you the best we can As we have maybe done before.
The problems can be big or small, We try to take them in our stride. Wanting only to give our finest care, And give you an easy ride.
Sometimes, try though we might, The path is strange and twisted. We stand beside you all the way Hopeful that soon the road home is un-misted.
There are the days, We all do get them, Where smiling can be hard. Where loss is felt and sorrow wrung And we all feel buried.
We share your grief and your joy, As if it were our own We find our love in what we do, And do our best to pass it on to you.
So now you know, What’s behind the person at that desk, And every person you meet here, Smiling and trying to do our best.
A poem by Lesley at NTVH
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