During the past several days, after work, school and basketball practices, someone, we hope, remembers to turn on the Christmas lights and bring in the mail.
As we sit around preparing for some sort of makeshift dinner, the mail is passed around, browsed through and casually sorted: bills, junk, Christmas cards, department store discount promotion cards and charitable donation requests.
On one recent frigid, dark and hectic evening, my 16-year-old daughter watched me toss envelopes into piles. She picked one up that I had cast aside and asked, “Don’t you care about helping to find a cure for cancer?”
“Of course I care about finding a cure for cancer,” I replied.
“Then aren’t you going to send in some money?”
I took the envelope from her and put it into the “to be looked at later when there is more time” pile.
I do care about cancer. I have two relatively young friends with Parkinson’s disease and I care about that as well. I care about the growing number of homeless people on the streets of Bangor. I care about the families who can’t afford to heat their homes and feed their children.
My heart aches for the parents who can’t afford gifts for their kids on Christmas morning.
I care about the neglected and abused animals whose only chance is to find their way to a local animal shelter that I hope has enough funding to provide them with the food, veterinary care and shelter they need.
I also love the annual American Folk Festival in Bangor and hope it can find a way to continue to bring a wealth of diverse music and entertainment to our area each summer.
Though my children are older, I still love the Maine Discovery Museum on Main Street and hope it can find a way to continue its mission. It’s truly a gem for this entire region.
I care that victims of rape and domestic violence have a safe, well-staffed, place to turn to for help.
Most of us who live here or in any other region are not rich people, but our communities survive on the hope that those who have some money will help those who have less.
The need is never as noticeable as at this time of year. The volunteers who tend to the finances of nonprofit agencies are gearing up for “the asking season,” a time when good-hearted donors are solicited through phone calls and letters to consider a monetary contribution.
As most families tighten their own belts, the pleas of nonprofit agencies seeking to continue to serve the needy among us or to bring much-needed enrichment to our area are that much more compelling.
Times are tough for many. There are more homeless people, there are more people seeking food from soup kitchens. There are more people surrendering their pets to shelters because of the inability to care for them.
There is always cancer. Cancer — whether it’s helping those who have been stricken or funding research — costs a lot of money.
If you are fortunate enough to have a door to knock on, a mailbox to fill or a phone number to call, chances are that someone representing any of those causes or organizations has contacted you or will be doing so.
It most certainly can seem burdensome — as if everyone is hitting you up for money at a time when money is most tight.
It certainly is easy to cast those requests aside.
If you are compelled to give, just how do you decide? Do you give all to one or a little to many?
All for some may be an annual $50 donation. For other families it’s much, much more and for others much less. The decision, however, is equally important and confounding.
I haven’t figured all that out myself. It’s a very personal choice. What I have come to learn is that it is important to extend patience and gratitude to those who are doing the asking. They are most often volunteers, and if you think you hate receiving the “ask,” you can be certain that those who are doing the asking are not doing so to rob you of your last dollar, but to try to keep vital services and opportunities viable in your community.
It’s OK to say no, but if you do, perhaps you could do so in a polite manner and even thank the volunteers for their efforts, because someone’s got to do it or our community would not be what it is today.
Ironically, it seems that it is those who lead the busiest lives who are putting in the time and effort to keep our nonprofits afloat. Perhaps you can’t afford a donation of money, but perhaps a donation of time or talent.
The need is great. There is room for all, and perhaps that is worth thinking about before casting any envelope aside.