This afternoon I went through a stack of fundraising appeals I’ve received in the mail in the last month. When I go through my mail, if it’s obviously a fundraiser from someone that I’ve not given money to in the past, the envelope goes unopened in a pile until the pile is twenty pieces high or so.
Today was “clean up the pile” day.
By that, I mean that I open the envelope, take a quick look to see who it’s from and what they want (usually, the first paragraph of the letter is all the read it gets), and if there’s something in the envelope — cards, notepads, nickels, mailing labels — that goes in a separate pile. If the appeal interests me, it goes in one pile. If it doesn’t interest me at all, it goes in another pile of papers to be recycled.
I think I have enough mailing labels now to last the next five years. I also have some interesting Christmas cards to use if I’m so inclined.
The only appeal that caught my interest? It came from the Alzheimer’s Association, Greater Maryland Chapter.
“Dear Mr. Gibson,” the letter began, “Can you imagine how emotionally difficult the holidays can be for people with Alzheimer’s disease, and their families?”
The comma was unnecessary. The whole letter is a grammatical nightmare.
But, yes, Cass Naugle, I can imagine. I can imagine indeed what the holidays are like for those who suffer from dementia and whose who love and care for them. And, to be frank, I really needed the rest of this letter seven years ago. It would have been… helpful.
They’re not asking for a lot, and I’ll see about sending them a little spare money this week.
The rest of the fundraising appeals, however, are getting recycled. Sorry, just the way it works.