I volunteer at the Florence prison. Waiting for guards to buzz me through the gates, I look up to barbed wire and know how difficult it must be to work here, how difficult to maintain equanimity in such a dire environment.

And yet, inside the drab gray buildings, every guard greets me with kindness. I see they are tired and know their job must be one of the toughest, yet their politeness remains intact.

At 10 p.m., returning home, I think how fortunate I am to live in Fountain Hills, the antipodes of prison. However, today I walk into the Fountain Hills Community Center. No barbed wire here. No dark gray walls. In fact, all is sunlit and spacious. (Some want new paint color; guess where you guys should relocate.) I am greeted by Dominic, a volunteer welcoming every person. Mike Fenzel and Bill Haughley convey lightness with a smile. Ernie Shapiro, despite unbearable pain, is upbeat and gracious.

But walk further down the soft, carpeted hall (yes, after Florence, you notice), and the energy changes. There is disdain in the air, a sour expression, an aggressive response to polite requests. I back away, wanting to run to my car. In the years at prison, I’ve never met with the haughty scorn I’ve experienced from several employees at FHCC.

How can employees in this environment be rude? They have windows! Wouldn’t they be grateful to work here? Daily? Whether in a prison or Fountain Hillls, all of us are here to serve, but those of us so blessed to serve in this lovely town should greet every man, woman and child with gratitude.

Timely, Dickens comes to mind: “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, benevolence, were all my business.”