I was talking to my neighbor, Sue, the other day and she told me that they were having a benefit spaghetti dinner for their granddaughter, Molly.
Molly is the precious, 2-year-old child of Jennifer and Brad Terry (Sue’s daughter and son-in-law). Molly suffers from spinal muscular atrophy. It’s a cruel disease and the No. 1 genetic killer in children under the age of 2.
I told Sue that if it was all right with her, I’d mention the benefit in this week’s column. She agreed and said she’d appreciate it. I do this because it’s a case of a little girl who, through no fault of her own, has endured a life of hospitals, emergency rooms and constant medical attention as a way of life. This little sweetheart, robbed of a healthy childhood, has never known it any other way. There’s a lot of us who complain about minor inconveniences as if they were major burdens. One look at Molly’s smile should be mandatory for those of us who, too often, lose perspective of what a real problem is.
The Saturday supper is scheduled for 3 p.m. at the Shelby Fire Hall on Route 63. There will be raffles and auctions. You can even bid on a rustic hutch I built for the occasion. Cash donations can be made to: Community Action of Orleans and Genesee. A memorandum note at the bottom of the check earmarking the name “Molly Terry” is requested. It can be mailed to: 409 E. State St., Albion, NY 14411. Thank you.
I don’t mind taking up for a cause like Molly’s. I much prefer to give to someone or something in the local area where I know where and exactly how the money is going to be used. I’ve written about charities and donations in the past. And I’m about to again.
While my wife and I were away for two weeks recently, we had the post office hold our mail. Upon our return, I picked it up and sat down to sort it out. Amongst the bills and magazines there were 32 pieces from various charities asking for money. Thirty-two! That averages out to more than 800 a year. That doesn’t include the phone call or two each day — also asking for a donation.
Here’s how I go about the process of choosing to whom and to what I’ll donate. I no longer give to any organization that calls on the phone. Call it cynicism, but I’m wary of what, where and how much of my donation is actually going to the described intention. I always feel as though I’m being hustled. So right off the bat, they’re eliminated.
“Thanks for calling. Say ‘hi’ to the paid staff there with you,” I say.
The mail is a little different. I look at the envelopes and decide if I should or shouldn’t look inside. Most charities come after you with the guilt angle right there on the outside.
Insulting my intelligence is a no-no if you expect to get my money (I’m sensitive about that). Showing me a picture of a droopy-eyed dog with a caption that says “no one loves me and I live under a bridge” as if the dog was saying it is a sure-fire way for me to relegate the request straight to the trash can. I don’t want some moron thinking I’m buying into his notion that there are other dogs — besides mine — that can speak English.
“No Alpo for you ... liar.”
And then there’s the organization that sends me a nickel about every three weeks telling me how much that nickel could buy. My advice: “Then please keep the nickel (and the eight others you used to purchase the stamp) and buy whatever it is you can get with it! Count it as my donation, if you will.”
Finally, I by no means suggest that you follow the guidelines that I’ve mentioned here — it’s just a method I use to handle the ever-growing volume of requests that pour in every day. But I do ask — if it be in prayer, only — that you keep Molly (and all of the other Mollys) in your heart and mind.
That’s the way it looks from the Valley.
Contact Tom Valley at Tvalley@rochester.rr.com.
Tom Valley
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Tom Valley is a Medina resident. His column appears every Thursday. Contact him at tvalley@rochester.rr.com.
VALLEY: Molly is a special little girl
- Tom Valley
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VALLEY: Molly is a special little girl
I was talking to my neighbor, Sue, the other day and she told me that they were having a benefit spaghetti dinner for their granddaughter, Molly.
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