Lissa Whitehurst, Settlement Club Member and 2016-2017 Club Chaplain wrote the following poem about the happenings at The Warehouse on Mondays when donations are accepted for our Annual Garage & Estate Sale. Read on for a glimpse into the organized chaos of Mondays!

We go to a place on Mondays
That is really hard to define.
It reminds me of a circus,
We’re the trainers and beasts combined!

There are people by the dozens, Standing in groups in a giant maze.
It reminds me of a flea market
Wish so many items to appraise.

We each wander through havoc,
Clanging, chiming and buzz, buzz, buzz!
It reminds me of an airport,
But without all the Hare Kirishna’s!

We find our precise location
Amidst all the chatting, talking, and bleeps.
It reminds me of a race track,
We are horses, in our stalls, with our peeps.

We greet our fellow bees,
In our hot and busy hives.
It reminds me of Henry the Eight’s chamber,
But without so many wives.

We go to work at once,
Pricing items for all the shelves.
It reminds me of Santa’s workshop,
Except the part where we’re not elves!

We sweat and toil and work, work, work!
It’s a day full of passion and zip.
It reminds me of Matthew McConaughey,
I just said that cause I think he’s hip!

I know this gig sounds crazy,
And we do it all for free!
It reminds me of Forbe’s list of donors,
But money really isn’t the key.

Our friendships are priceless treasures,
Our hearts endow more than gold.
It reminds me of the Bible,
A beautiful story that needs to be told.

So Mondays will always be with us,
We will show up so steadfast and true.
It reminds me of the girls at The Home,
They are handiwork and we are the glue!