At the bus stop

27Nov10

For a town that looks like it has no migrants other than the doctors who come and go and those who run takeaway shops, I’ve met an awful lot of migrants lately! I kept wondering how they knew about us? I mean why is that with all their problems with language, they keep finding us but ‘Aussies’ don’t.

Well yesterday I found out … Stacey. God bless her, she’s so happy with the program that every time she meets a new, fellow migrant she tells them about us. Whether she’s playing badminton, volunteering at Red Cross, confusing the butcher or waiting at a bus stop, everyone is fair game. Then I get the phone call, ‘Libby, it’s Stacey. I hope you don’t mind (giggle) but I have another student for you’.

So, isn’t it strange how you can walk around and shut your eyes to what’s in front of you and then something happens, your eyes are opened and that’s it – you just can’t shut them again. Thanks to Stacey, I’ve remembered that no fancy marketing, publicity or promotion will ever work better than the right word at the right time from someone who’s trusted.

All our current and past students is a potential bus stop advertisement that someone may see while they wait for ‘something’ to come along. I guess our job is to make sure we put the bus stop where it’s needed, go where we say we’re going and be prepared to change our route when we notice the need has changed.

Now, where can I find more Staceys, Trevors, Julies, Shanes ….. ? Libby