A group of students from a prestigious business school visited us recently. Naturally, they were particularly interested in our granola business and how it works with the overall mission of our non-profit.
Before they left, one of the students asked me, “So, do you think there will come a day when the granola business totally funds Blue Monarch?”
My gut reaction to that question was immediate. “Well, I certainly hope not!” What?
This answer surprised everyone, including me. My word, our granola business is something I have poured blood, sweat, and tears into for many years - doing store demos, delivering granola from the trunk of my car to loading docks behind large grocery stores, and rolling boxes into coffee shops on a hand dolly. I have always wanted the business to do well because that means more jobs for more women. So why would I say such a thing?
Then I realized, if the granola business totally funded Blue Monarch, this would mean we were no longer dependent on our donors – and they are our family. I know it sounds crazy, but in that split second when he asked me that question, I began picturing specific faces of individuals who give money to us. I suppose the thought of losing them was actually painful to me in a way I wasn’t expecting.
For instance, we have a really sweet man who began writing to us regularly after his wife died a couple of years ago. He typically encloses a $20 bill with a handwritten letter, which is usually several pages long.
Each time a different Blue Monarch resident writes him back, so he essentially has almost a dozen pen pals by now. He encourages them, lifts them up, and tells them they are special. The love and admiration he frequently expresses for his wife is good for our residents to hear. See, not all men are bad.
Or, let’s take this woman for example. We had a particularly rough week at Blue Monarch recently and all of us were excited for the weekend to get here. But on a Friday afternoon we got an unusual call from a woman who said she wanted our address so she could bring us some money. She did not want to mail it. Reluctant to give out our physical address to a stranger on the phone, and not really sure of her true motives, we were hesitant to do so. However, after deciding she was genuine, we gave her directions and waited on her arrival, anxious to meet the mysterious woman.
When she arrived with her sister, right away we fell in love with her. She was just precious. With tears in her eyes, this young woman began sharing how she observed her mother in an abusive relationship for many years and wished her mother could have had a place like Blue Monarch. Her mother had recently died, and she wanted to honor her by giving Blue Monarch a tithe of what she had inherited. Amazing. She went on to describe how she would love to volunteer at Blue Monarch, but she worked at a factory, typically six to seven days a week, and didn’t have the time. She learned about Blue Monarch after reading an article in the local paper about Lauren, our recent graduate who was working toward getting her pilot's license.
We had a wonderful visit and before she and her sister left, she reached into her pocket and pulled out an enormous wad of cash, which was wrapped in rubber bands. I had never received a gift like this and although I couldn’t wait to see how much it was, I respectfully waited until she walked out the door before ripping off the rubber bands to count it.
As I built stacks of bills on the coffee table in my office, I began to get choked up. That big wad of cash added up to $7,600! It was an enormously generous gift – and represented a tremendous sacrifice on her part. Clearly this kind of money could have a significant impact on someone working seven days a week at a factory. Speechless and moved beyond words, our staff members just sat around my coffee table shaking our heads at what an unbelievable gift this was. Such an unexpected blessing!
It wasn’t too long after that when we had another surprising gift. We received a $300 check from a new donor and just look what we found in the memo line…”donations from coins on floor at Wal-Mart”.
Turns out, this man works in maintenance at a Wal-Mart store. For a whole year, he collected the lost change on the floor until he saved up $300 to give to us. Can you believe that?
So, yes, I would love to sell a boat load of granola! I wish our granola was in every store across the country. But if it meant losing our Blue Monarch donors who support us so faithfully, I would have to say, “No, thank you.” They mean too much. Plus, I know they are often blessed by blessing us.
Yesterday, as I was leaving to go home, I found one of our residents on the front porch crying. Her mother had been released from prison recently and she was hurt that she had not heard from her. “My mother knows my address and she hasn’t even written." Barely able to get the words out, she cried, "I just want her to say, ‘Hey, I’m proud of you.’”
In that moment I realized there was nothing we could do that would substitute for what she needed from her mother. But I was grateful she had a Blue Monarch family that would support her, lift her up, and tell her she’s special. In fact, I suspect there might even be a dear old man sitting down right now, about to tell her that very thing. “I am proud of you. Keep up the good work.”
That reminds me. We should send that man a bag of granola. After all, he’s family!
Lord, thank you for each and every donor who helps us to become the family our women and children need, and perhaps the family they never even had. Amen
