After a whispered discussion among the three, Nancy stood up and came to the lectern. A middle-aged woman, she had her hair cut short and curly. It was a brownish color that made Tony suspect it might be dyed. She wore a smart shirt and pair of slacks and had a look of authority. Even before she said a word, Tony admired her aura of composure in a difficult situation.

The audience became quiet without being asked. Nancy tapped the microphone to see if it was turned on and then started speaking. “Thank you for coming tonight. This is a hard time for all of us. As those of you who attended Joy’s funeral and listened to her friends and family talk about her know, Joy was a very special person.”

Tony hadn’t attended her funeral. His rationalization was that he had barely known her and couldn’t afford to take time off from work, but in a rare self-analytic moment, he had admitted to himself that he had a fear of funerals. Now he had to contend with a certain level of guilt.

Nancy looked around the auditorium and continued, “But all of you are very special people. As listeners on the Hotline, you have made a commitment that few people can make. You have committed yourselves to help others-not just go through the motions of helping others, with surface gestures such as donating money or old toys. You have agreed to enter their worlds, to listen to their problems, to walk a mile in their shoes, to feel what it’s like to be disabled or abused or bi-polar or even suicidal. You have invested not just your time, but your emotions, as well. And that is what is difficult to do. That’s what sets you apart and makes you special. That’s what puts you in a class by yourselves and gives you a bond with other Hotline listeners that nobody who hasn’t been a listener can share. And all of you have a permanent bond with Joy.”