The credit card machine wasn’t working. I tried every trick I knew and nothing fixed it. After the first customer walked away frustrated and the second was about to do the same, I knew something had to change.
So I left the customer standing there, took his credit card and the machine, and interrupted my boss’s conversation with a one-word request,
“Help!”
I hate asking for help. I’ve always been independent and now that I’m single, I find ways to make two-person jobs into one-person jobs. When it inconveniences someone else—even if it’s a quick conversation pause—I’ll find a way to do it myself first.
Back in April I asked for help to raise $14,278. I couldn’t do it on my own. And you guys—the body of Christ—stepped up more than I could have dreamed.
I have officially reached my fundraising goal!
I know each dollar was an intentional sacrifice. I don’t know how many times I happy-danced in front of my computer as your generosity blew me away.
My plea for help has not been ignored.
The words “Thank you!” just don’t seem sufficient.
In Puerto Rico there’s a gesture that I interpret as “too good for words.” It’s a squished ASL-O on the cheek right next to the mouth.
That’s you guys.
Thank you for supporting, for encouraging, for praying, for reading along… I can’t do this without you.
And lest you’re worried about that credit card machine, my boss fixed it, and I was able to recover the first “lost” sale too.
PS: My teammate Sandra is still short on her next fundraising deadline. If you feel so inclined, I’m sure she’d love your help!
