At 11 o'clock the women of the Northampton hospice thrift shop on 18 Bridge Street take their coffee break. One by one, the women disappear through a curtain behind the cash register into the coat closet. There, between two walls of jackets are the coffee, crackers, and some other kind of treat, which is different each week. The women crowd into the little square space, all five of them, and pick up their coffees. "Oh, you're so good to me," says Mildred to Thelma as she pours her a cup. Ann, the youngest at 72, likes her black. And then the women form a procession through the curtain back out into the store, chatting, nibbling on Milano cookies (this week's treat), warming their fingertips and waving hello to the customers. Only Mimi drinks tea and has for fifteen years, because coffee makes her nervous.

The shop has been open for about an hour, but customers are only beginning to arrive. The women gather around the counter. Irene has a big story. Last week she did a little shopping at the Holyoke mall. After she left the mall she went to the bakery to buy some éclairs for her sister. She was at the register when she realized she didn't have her wallet. She had lost it somewhere. Lucky for Irene, a woman at the Holyoke mall found her wallet and called Irene's sister. Irene's sister called Irene, and Irene called the woman. Thank goodness she had found it! Irene drove back to the mall to pick up her wallet and offered the woman an award, but the woman refused to take it. She didn't want anything in return.

"Really!" someone says. "I know, I know," says Irene, like she still can't believe it.

There are 75 volunteers at the hospice shop, with two shifts per day. These women are leaving at one o'clock, and then four more will come to take their place. Jean is the coordinator of all the volunteers and she says the job is very popular. The schedule is so packed that most of the women are allowed to work no more than once or twice a week. But they have plenty of other things to do. Mimi is 87 and works the phone lines at her favorite public radio station. Ann belongs to a book club and Mildred likes to make quilts. Harriet enjoys working at the hospice shop the most out of all her volunteer jobs because it reminds her of the store she and her husband used to run, where they sold wall paper and window shades. At the hospice shop she sells all of that and more.

Most of these women are retired. They used to work in many places - at the Stop and Shop in Chicopee, on an army base in Japan, in the kitchen of a nursing home. Now they like to volunteer, but they like other things, too. They like their families, many of whom live nearby. They like children. They like paying attention to the details. In the backroom of the hospice shop there are shelves and shelves of items that have been donated over the year, separated into different boxes. There is an Easter box, a Christmas box, a New Years box. This week Mimi opened up the St. Patrick's Day box and put together a display for the front window - two green glass beer mugs, a green plaid shirt, a green sequined halter top, and a green tinseled party hat. If some items don't sell they will go back in the box where they will wait for the next St. Patrick's Day to arrive. But first there is the next holiday, then the next, and the next. Soon enough, Mimi will once again remove the assortment of reds and pinks she assembled for Valentine's Day. She will once again replace them with the green tinsel and sequins of St. Patrick's. She will do this in one year from now. It is a comforting way to mark the time.

A new customer walks into the store. She has two small children by her side, each about four years old, and a smaller one in a carriage. They cling to her legs and giggle as she makes her way through a cramped row of sweaters and slacks. Mimi recognizes her. "She comes in everyday with the kids. She takes care of them. Got them trained, though," she says, with a wave. The woman and her kids disappear behind the children's books.

Mimi stops at the counter to talk to Thelma, Ann and Mildred, who has just found a good pair of black pantyhose in the lingerie drawer. "I was gonna get a pair of these at Walmart," she says.

While they are all standing there, a heavily-breathing woman plunks down a pair of Mootsies Tootsies slingbacks, a pair of sandals and a few scarves and takes out her purse. Ann begins rummaging through the items for tags and Thelma starts scribbling the prices down on a receipt. Mildred untangles a plastic bag. "Volunteers, eh?" says the woman, in between breaths. "Me too. What else is there to do after 65?"