“Toss me a dollar”

I hate everything about fundraising. I hate it when kids come knocking at my door. I hate boxes of candy and catalogs of food items lying around on the office counters. I hate asking people for donations, even for noble causes like helping cancer victims and cancer research. It doesn’t even make it easier that my youngest daughter was diagnosed with leukemia 5 years ago.

Each year since my daughter’s diagnosis, I participate in at least one cancer fundraising event. In the past years I was allowed to make up flyer’s to put in each of the 400 staff mailboxes at work. This year, I had the best flyer of all. From the flyer:

“Some things in life aren’t supposed to happen, like my 7 month old grandson, Nixon. His mom’s cancer doctor said she’d be unable to bear children. She was also told her bone marrow transplant for leukemia was unsuccessful. He was wrong on both counts. Nixon was born on that doctor’s birthday and today my daughter is free of cancer.”

The flyer had a picture of my 7 month grandson in his “Livestrong” bicycle helmet. I knew this was going to an awesome fundraiser.

New management at work decided no fundraising was allowed except through United Way. No exceptions.

I hate fundraising. There is something about holding my hand out for money that makes me totally uncomfortable. My new plan was to make people approach me.

I shaved my full head of hair to shiny bald. I used every comment regarding being bald as an opening to I’m raising funds for cancer… 24 hr mountain bike race… Lance Armstrong… daughter cancer free… miracle baby…toss me a dollar…really, just a dollar.

Today makes 6 weeks of $500+ tossed dollars and one specially delivered from a postal carrier as a paper airplane.

I hate fundraising, but I love saying, “Toss me a dollar.”