Henry Dsouza, New Westminster Resident
It’s About the People

When Henry Dsouza, a New Westminster resident, retired, he was looking for something meaningful to do with his mornings. What he found at Volunteer Cancer Drivers Society was much more than a way to stay busy.

Most days, Henry starts his volunteer drives around 9 a.m., helping patients get to and from their cancer treatments. But ask him what keeps him volunteering, and he won’t talk about the driving. He talks about the people.

“There are so many moments that stay with you,” he says. “Sometimes you’re just listening. Sometimes you’re encouraging someone. Sometimes people just need someone to listen.”

One patient he remembers well was a very young woman who seemed to be losing hope as she faced cancer treatment. Through conversation and encouragement, Henry watched her outlook begin to change.

“Seeing someone’s face light up and knowing you’ve helped them feel a little more positive, that means a lot.”

When Henry first started volunteering, he wondered how patients would receive him. Those concerns quickly disappeared.

“The patients always put me at ease,” he recalls.

Over time, many rides have become much more than trips to appointments. Henry and his passengers share stories about family, travel, favourite foods, and life experiences. Some have become familiar faces he still runs into around town.

“It’s hugs all around,” he says. “That’s one of the most satisfying things. I know then that I’m doing something good.”

Not every drive is easy. Henry remembers one woman in her 60s who had just finished chemotherapy. She got into his car, slumped into the back seat, and could barely speak.

“I was frightened,” he recalls. “I thought I might need to call for help.”

As he prepared to do so, she motioned for him to wait. After some time to recover, she gradually began feeling better.

“It was a huge relief for both of us.”

Another conversation left a lasting impression. An elderly gentleman shared that he rarely saw his children or grandchildren and felt very alone.

“You hear stories like that, and you reflect on your own life,” says Henry. “Some people are very fortunate. Others aren’t.”

Experiences like these have strengthened something Henry has always believed: empathy and genuine care matter. What continues to amaze him is the gratitude patients show. Sometimes it’s a smile. Sometimes it’s homemade cookies, rice cake, or banana bread. For Henry, those simple gestures say everything.

“The smiles are enough for me.”

For anyone thinking about volunteering, his advice is straightforward:

“Don’t hesitate. Please join. The rewards come from what you give, what you share, and what you bring to the patients.”

One patient, however, remains especially close to his heart. She was a small woman he drove often, and their rides were filled with jokes, laughter, and wonderful conversations. Henry never realized she was in the final chapter of her life.

Sometime later, he came across a post from her daughter announcing her passing.

“I was overcome with emotion,” he says.

Henry sat down and wrote about their rides together and what she had meant to him. Later, her daughter told him that his words had been read aloud at her mother’s wake.

For Henry, that moment captures what this volunteer role is about. Not the driving. The people.

Thank you, Henry, for the kindness, compassion, and friendship you bring to every ride. The kilometres you drive help patients get to treatment, but the care you show along the way leaves a lasting impact on the lives of those you serve.