Skip to main content

What a blast

Last week's event was a blast. I have to admit. It beat even my own ambitious and so-I-thought-unrealistic expectations. From an initial target of £15k, we had soon realized we had been too conservative to want to build only one water well with such an evening. By the time the lights were on and the event started we were well over it, net of costs. The moment the auction had the first bids we knew we already had secured another well, only with the starting bids. But the night went on. The speeches, though a bit long (including my own), went very well. People were touched and impressed by how little it would take to achieve so much. And that is in the root of all of our fundraising - asking people for little gestures, to get great helps. 
I will admit, my own expectation was at £50k, assuming the evening was a success. But truth be said, I was far from the almost £70k raised and still counting, pre-matching and with some gift aid to go. What a blast. 
More important than having been fun, entertaining, a blast and a productive evening, is the fact that this money will allow us to give the first kick to the 2 water wells in the pipeline, assure the full year of pre-school funding for the 2 schools we work with, start another 2 family huts and leave an endowment for water wells for the remaining of the year and 2013 as well. what a blast. That is all I could say. 
When I came home that evening, I knew it had been good. I just did not know it had been awesome, using my once continent-mates expression. I had to count it that same evening. B knew that and I know he was curious as well. So he patiently sat in the sofa while I went through each bidding sheet. Funny enough, half of the bidding sheets were missing, and I was already missing £15k, so I decided to call it a night and email the trustees with the results. What was I thinking... The excitement mixed with tiredness and stress of the last days mixed it all into us leaving the bags outside our own door. So even though it was past midnight, here we go again, computer on again, and we start counting one more time. I could not believe my own eyes and I went to bed unable to sleep. B was patient and heard me tell every story, every person that talked to me, every comment that was made. I think I will remember them forever.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Time is what makes us different

I heard what is likely to become one of my top 3 favourite quotes on a podcast on Friday. "Time is the only real democratic asset. We are all awarded the same time, it is what we do with it that distinguishes us".  Now, I recognise that most of us need to work with survive and that is not democratic throughout. But on an equal opportunity basis, this is an interesting way of putting it. For many years I did not understand why MS thought my resume was so interesting. In fact, they chased me during the entire recruitment process, even though I had no idea of moving to London or Finance. I wanted to be a consultant and stay in Lisbon forever. But traditional consultants in Portugal saw nothing in me, and MS did not let me go. When I started screening resumes and hiring people a couple of years later is when I understood why I was different. TIME.  I was truly different about what I did with my time. Not necessarily the basics - choice of degree or anything. But really ...

Short one: D-Day

It is D-Day today :-) I took out the braids, and the clock is ticking. Bernardo will be in Maputo in two hours. We have plans for the weekend and so much to catch up on. I doubt I will be blogging soon, hehe

Blogging

I have not written in a while. As I hit the bottom I was afraid of what might come out and what might be registered in the web for eternity. But it does not matter. As I go through this stage I know that writing is probably one of the best things I can do, and keeping things inside one of the worst. And short of re-starting my book (or books) any time soon, as they feature about 27 in my list of things I wish I could do, this is just as good.  People used to write diaries, now they blog. I reas on facebook that people used to be upset if someone read their diary, now they get angry if no one reads their blog. It is a funny phenomena. I must say that most of times I think no-one is reading, so why bother, and even those reading won't miss it amongst all other things they surely read. But then a comment comes through, an email reminds me of something I wrote and I know that someone out there comes and visits my home away from home. For good or bad :)