Eons ago I worked at the Boys and Girls Club of the Tanana Valley. It was a lot like working at the Children's Museum of Tacoma or The Imaginarium, but the Club was real. Fo' sure.
Imagine my surprise and pleasure when an old co-worker messaged me on Facebook and asked if I wanted to serve on the board as part of their fundraising committee.
I'll lay it out for you right now: I hate soliciting. I hate asking people for money (unless its owed). And I hate bugging people to donate auction items. Some people are very good at acquiring all kind of goodies; me, my only donations to the auction were some chocolate bars in a pig cookie jar, another dessert, and a new baby basket. It wasn't that I didn't try, I really, really did. I had high hopes of purchasing a table with some friends, but that didn't work out. Instead, it was just two of us: my friend Lisa, who also worked for the Boys and Girls Club a few years before I did, was my date.
In an effort to aid the cause and in the spirit of volunteerism, I agreed to help with the finances later that evening. I figured if I didn't get the number of donations I wanted to, at least I could donate my time.
Silent Auctions are funny things. I'll be the first to admit that I had never heard of them before I moved up here, but they are extremely popular. Almost every event in town has one, even if it is just a tiny table in the corner. I almost never bid on anything. I did see some really cute antiques. I regrettably did not even try to bid on because I am not a millionaire and could not pay $160 for three glass milk jugs from the Golden Creamery. I bid on only one thing: three pounds of bacon from Homegrown Market at $47. Looking back at it now, I would have been crazy to pay $15/lb for bacon, even if their bacon is amazing. Lisa, in an effort to drive up the price, bid on many items.
She told me a story from her days working for Scott Kawasaki, a local political figure. They had gone to a fundraiser with a small silent auction and as they were perusing, he told her to bid to drive up the price of the items. At the end of the night, she was left with a number of items and was out $75.
This time she was out $467.
I knew she couldn't afford it. She's currently trying to get her Master's degree and is working two jobs to afford her tuition, rent, and the general necessities of life. I doubled checked the bid sheets and asked her to sort them into what she actually wanted and what she didn't. I also bought one of her items off of her: a lovely white purse (my birthday present!). By the time it was said and done, we had whittled the charges down to $125, manageable for a college student. If I get called on it, I will tell them the truth. I'm not in any way ashamed of what I did. I would have considered it to be in bad taste (and bad Karma) to let her walk away with that financial stress, especially since I invited her to the event.
After I got Lisa squared away, I took a deep breath and entered my own bid number, ready to see a number larger than I would have liked (damn you, bacon!). Luckily, Providence (Karma, the Universe) smiled upon me: $85. Oh, thank goodness! Someone outbid me on the bacon!
The best part of the night, though, was seeing a woman retreat to her table with both of my desserts. I approached her and said, "I see you won both of my desserts."
She shook her head and pointed to a woman to her left. "No, she did." She had placed a homemade twix bar on her plate.
I looked over at the other woman and said, "I hope you like them!" By this time, the cookie jar and the twix bars had made a round around the table and there were audible oohs and ahhs. (I flushed with pleasure inside.)
Her boyfriend/husband/significant other asked, "Where did you get this cookie jar?"
I told him that I had won it in a family auction and that my father had gotten it from garage sale or Fred Meyer, I didn't know which.
He said that it was perfect because the two of them were from Iowa! Seriously, how could a pig driving a corn car not be the perfect gift for the couple from Iowa? I was so happy that that little pig found its way to a couple who would really enjoy him and that he no longer had to sit in my garage, collecting dust.
"I'm so glad you like him!" I exclaimed, taking a mental note to tell Dad about this. He would laugh and laugh in his giddy way when he was excited about something.
Blessed be.
Imagine my surprise and pleasure when an old co-worker messaged me on Facebook and asked if I wanted to serve on the board as part of their fundraising committee.
I'll lay it out for you right now: I hate soliciting. I hate asking people for money (unless its owed). And I hate bugging people to donate auction items. Some people are very good at acquiring all kind of goodies; me, my only donations to the auction were some chocolate bars in a pig cookie jar, another dessert, and a new baby basket. It wasn't that I didn't try, I really, really did. I had high hopes of purchasing a table with some friends, but that didn't work out. Instead, it was just two of us: my friend Lisa, who also worked for the Boys and Girls Club a few years before I did, was my date.
In an effort to aid the cause and in the spirit of volunteerism, I agreed to help with the finances later that evening. I figured if I didn't get the number of donations I wanted to, at least I could donate my time.
Silent Auctions are funny things. I'll be the first to admit that I had never heard of them before I moved up here, but they are extremely popular. Almost every event in town has one, even if it is just a tiny table in the corner. I almost never bid on anything. I did see some really cute antiques. I regrettably did not even try to bid on because I am not a millionaire and could not pay $160 for three glass milk jugs from the Golden Creamery. I bid on only one thing: three pounds of bacon from Homegrown Market at $47. Looking back at it now, I would have been crazy to pay $15/lb for bacon, even if their bacon is amazing. Lisa, in an effort to drive up the price, bid on many items.
She told me a story from her days working for Scott Kawasaki, a local political figure. They had gone to a fundraiser with a small silent auction and as they were perusing, he told her to bid to drive up the price of the items. At the end of the night, she was left with a number of items and was out $75.
This time she was out $467.
I knew she couldn't afford it. She's currently trying to get her Master's degree and is working two jobs to afford her tuition, rent, and the general necessities of life. I doubled checked the bid sheets and asked her to sort them into what she actually wanted and what she didn't. I also bought one of her items off of her: a lovely white purse (my birthday present!). By the time it was said and done, we had whittled the charges down to $125, manageable for a college student. If I get called on it, I will tell them the truth. I'm not in any way ashamed of what I did. I would have considered it to be in bad taste (and bad Karma) to let her walk away with that financial stress, especially since I invited her to the event.
After I got Lisa squared away, I took a deep breath and entered my own bid number, ready to see a number larger than I would have liked (damn you, bacon!). Luckily, Providence (Karma, the Universe) smiled upon me: $85. Oh, thank goodness! Someone outbid me on the bacon!
The best part of the night, though, was seeing a woman retreat to her table with both of my desserts. I approached her and said, "I see you won both of my desserts."
She shook her head and pointed to a woman to her left. "No, she did." She had placed a homemade twix bar on her plate.
I looked over at the other woman and said, "I hope you like them!" By this time, the cookie jar and the twix bars had made a round around the table and there were audible oohs and ahhs. (I flushed with pleasure inside.)
Her boyfriend/husband/significant other asked, "Where did you get this cookie jar?"
I told him that I had won it in a family auction and that my father had gotten it from garage sale or Fred Meyer, I didn't know which.
He said that it was perfect because the two of them were from Iowa! Seriously, how could a pig driving a corn car not be the perfect gift for the couple from Iowa? I was so happy that that little pig found its way to a couple who would really enjoy him and that he no longer had to sit in my garage, collecting dust.
"I'm so glad you like him!" I exclaimed, taking a mental note to tell Dad about this. He would laugh and laugh in his giddy way when he was excited about something.
Blessed be.
0 comments: