It’s almost February, so I’m a bit late with this post.

#refugexmas is done and dusted , the new year has started,  life has returned to some sort of routine.

But I wanted to tell you all a little about what a difference you made to the women and kids this year. 25 women, and approximately 70 kids, to be more accurate.

You need to know that for many of the kids present at the refuge xmas party, the gifts you sent for them are the only gifts they got this Xmas.

You need to know that last year, two young women arrived at refuge, terrified and withdrawn, and at #refugexmas they laughed and played like the kids  they were never able to be.

You need to know that two of the women are doing social work degrees, and that they take great heart from all the support they are given, to the extent that they have chosen a career path that will enable them to give back.

You need to know that for many of the women, the money you gave to our givealittle fund for food has enabled them to breathe a little easier.

You need to know that a woman who arrived at refuge two days before the party was overwhelmed that her children should be getting presents for xmas, when she had expected that there would be none.

And you need to know that laughter – the predominant sound at the refuge – is the language of freedom.

There are many uncertainties in my line of voluntary work. The women come and go,  I never know what’s coming and when. But there is one constant. My gratitude to all of you -strangers and friends alike, who rally around me and help me to do this.

I tried to name all of you and ended up naming none. Perhaps that is what we prefer? I’m your face, your voice, I guess. It’s why it works, all of this, and I’m okay with that.

But don’t think I could do it ever without you. Because I used to and it was unsustainable, and now here we are.

Thank you.

Today was the National Day of Random Acts of Kindness. I’m not really about having a day especially for kindness, but I am aware that many people need a focus for random acts of kindness, and that’s okay.

Let me tell you, though, about what kindness looked like, in my life, today. Many days are full of kindness towards the women at Refuge – most days consist of emails offering me stuff, or money, or kind words.

Today though was something a bit special. It started, unbeknownst to me, with a call by the ASB on Twitter for nominees for a $250 one-off gift. Some very kind people nominated the #twitteraunties, and towards the end of the day, we recieved a tweet to say that we were the recipients of said $250. How wonderful!

And then, in the middle of a meeting at work , a soft knock on the door. It was my H. My H is one of the pieces of my heart. She is a woman who’s been knocked around by life, a lot. I met her in refuge, I’ve held her in my arms when life has taken a tragic turn, and then she went on to a new life, we thought. Kris and I were so happy for her. Twitter Aunties in Christchurch took her under their wings. She was finding some light again. And then, again, she was knocked down. She has come back to Auckland, and here she was. I took her in my arms – “you should never have shown me where you worked” – and I held on to her. She’s staying with another ex refuge mum, just for the moment, neither of them with any money, and then I suddenly remembered that I had been given $50 worth of Countdown vouchers which I was able to give to her.

I left work, and went to ring the woman who had helped H in Christchurch to let her know that she was safe, and instead got her business partner on the phone. A beautiful woman, a woman with heart and compassion, who listened as I sobbed on the phone, and reassured me that if there was anything the group of women could do down there, they would.

I ended the phone call and went to the fruit and vege shop to get some stuff for dinner. While there, Paul the shop owner asked me how I was. When I told him about H and what the situation was, he immediately went to fill a bag with fruit and vege for the two women.

When I got home, I recieved a call from a friend about a situation that required immediate attention, someone who needed rescuing. I, in turn, rang another friend to ask advice. And she and her partner leapt to help.

This is a day of kindnesses to strangers. This is a day, a day like most others, a day given a name to promote kindness. But the kindnesses I experienced today weren’t random. They fell into place, one after the other.

This is what kindness looks like, in my life.

Sometimes, I think ( I know) that the issue of domestic violence, and the work we’re doing at the Refuge, are very scary to people.  How can you help? What can you do?

Remember this: violence is scary. These women are not. They are ordinary people, like you and me. Some of them have had rough as gut lives, some of them have not. Some of them have known nothing but violence, some of them are surprised by it.

Either way, whatever way they get into Refuge, by the time they get there, they’re ready for a break. And that’s what the Refuge provides for them. A break away, a respite, a rest before they start their new lives (or in some cases, resume their old ones).

And a rest is as good as a holiday. A’s kids call the Refuge the holiday house. Because they go camping every Christmas, they associate the building and the way they’re living in it, with holiday cabins.

That’s a pretty great thought, isn’t it?

Because it kind of is like that. It’s communal living, and there’s these large grounds with big beautiful trees, and an amazing playground. There’s other kids to play with. So I guess for some of the kids it is like being on holiday (and also people give them stuff, so it’s also like Christmas quite a lot, which is pretty remarkable, you must admit.)

It’s not a scary place, and these aren’t scary people. They are brave and beautiful people finding their way through, or discovering for the first time what it’s like to have a bit of peace.

I won’t sugar coat it. Things need doing around the place, and they’re getting done, bit by bit. But overall it’s somewhere you can find a cup of tea and a sit down quite enjoyable.

It’s not exactly Club Tropicana but it’s not Colditz either. So go ahead, become an Aunty and find a bit of joy where you thought there might be none.

Just like at a holiday camp.