I never thought of myself as a “volunteer.” Not at first. Things just sort of… evolved. One day I was helping someone sew on a button, the next I was on a committee planning a fashion show for Fairtrade Chesham. Then came the Community Fridge, and it all grew from there.
My husband Dai and I do a lot of this together. We’ve always been busy people—practical, hands-on. I’m not good at sitting still. I like lists, plans, and things being in their right place. Dai’s more spur-of-the-moment, but he’s brilliant at getting things done. We make a good team.
The Chesham Community Fridge is where we put most of our time now. We’ve been involved since before it even existed, when it was just an idea shared by a friend at church. “Wouldn’t it be great to have something like that here?” she said. We nodded, said, “Yes, it would,” and then, as these things go, ended up helping to make it happen.
At its heart, the fridge is simple: we save surplus food from going to waste and make it available to anyone who needs it. No forms. No judgement. No questions asked. It’s not like a food bank. There’s no qualifying criteria. You just turn up. We’ve always been clear about that.
Of course, a lot of the people who come are struggling. Some are visibly embarrassed. I’ve spoken to parents in tears, not because they’re ungrateful, but because they never thought they’d need help like this. It’s humbling. And heartbreaking. But the dignity we offer—just treating people with kindness and respect—can make such a difference.
I help with admin, volunteer coordination, health and safety, and anything else that needs sorting. Dai calls me the brains of the operation—I think he just doesn’t want to do the paperwork! But I like things to run well. I like systems. And I love seeing people come together to make something good happen.
We’ve built a strong volunteer base—around 50 regulars, give or take. Some come for the social side, others for the cause. A few started out as fridge users themselves. That’s the beauty of it: once people feel welcomed and valued, they want to give back too.
Outside the fridge, I help run Sew Do It, a free drop-in sewing group. It’s very informal—anyone can come, from beginners to those halfway through an ambitious quilt. I help, advise, guide—but I try not to do it for them. It’s about learning. Giving people the confidence to fix a hem or sew on a button might not sound like much, but it empowers them. And it keeps perfectly good clothes out of landfill, which is just as important.
I’m also involved in the Repair Café, where I focus on fabric repairs—zips, seams, buttons. Again, it’s about showing people what’s possible. A torn curtain doesn’t mean a trip to the tip. A frayed jacket can often be saved. There’s value in teaching these small, practical skills.
Fairtrade Chesham came into my life when I got involved in a fashion show promoting sustainable clothing. As a seamstress, I was already interested in ethical fashion and sustainable fabrics. Then I heard someone was planning a Fairtrade fashion show and offered to help. That was it—I was on the committee before I knew it.
We’re now planning another show next February, this time at Trinity, our church’s new building. We’ve got a proper stage and space to do it right. It’s exciting to see it all coming together. There’s something powerful about combining creativity, community, and justice.
What I’ve learned from all of this is that volunteering isn’t about doing something grand. It’s about showing up. Helping in the ways you can. Using what you already know to make life a bit better for someone else. Whether that’s a bag of groceries, a fixed zip, or a listening ear.
And it gives back too. It keeps me connected. Keeps me learning. Keeps me going.
If someone’s thinking about volunteering, I’d say: start with what you care about. You don’t need to have it all figured out. Just offer what you can. You never know what it might grow into.
