January 2017 – Nonprofit Readers Blog

Justin’s dog, Butch, had free run of the 20-acre family farm. When not doing chores, the boy spent hours with his half-collie and half-German shepherd—mostly brown with a handsome mix of white.

You can easily imagine them together exploring the back woods, wrestling in the grass, tossing a frizzbee, or the two just sitting out front of the ranch-styled home perched pretty as a picture on a hill overlooking the meadow.

But Butch was no ordinary farm dog. He came when you called; sat and fetched upon command; paced close by your side on a stroll; barked a warning when sensing something amiss; ferociously gnawed on a steak bone saved for him from dinner.

What more could a twelve-year-old boy ask? His was the perfect dog.

The Flaw
Still, Butch had one flaw. Only one.

In his spare time, the beloved dog would crouch down flat on his tummy behind a bush by the gate at the end of the driveway. Along the country road was a shallow ditch running the length of the farm that served as his track. Ears would perk up as a car approached and, as the vehicle whizzed by, Butch would spring up and chase like a race horse for his prize.

Panting loudly with tongue hanging and tail wagging, he would proudly trot back on the well-worn drag strip to await his next “victim.”

Butch was no slouch. One Sunday on the way to church, Justin’s family clocked him at 35 miles per hour.

That being said, the family was not amused by Butch’s pastime. They were puzzled. WHY did Butch go after cars and pickup trucks? Did he think he would eventually catch one? What would he do with it if he did? Or was it just mindless exercise out of boredom?

Mostly, however, they feared for his very life. Trying everything short of prayer to make Butch stop—from stern reprimands to rolled-up newspapers on the nose—but nothing worked.

Justin and his family began to fixate on the canine’s blemish. Everyone loved Butch. Yet, they grew to resent the beast as they focused increasingly on his horrible habit. It got to that all they could see was a miserable, relentless, car-chaser.

The Perfect Solution
One sunny July 4th Justin’s family hosted an extended family gathering. A gorgeous day but, as burgers and hot dogs grilled, they showered complaints on the relatives about Butch’s dangerous and disgusting liability.

Uncle Ev, a quiet, measured kind of man everyone loved, piped up that he knew a sure way to CURE the hound once and for all of his risky hobby. The family was all ears for the perfect plan!

The treasured secret, he revealed, was simply to toss a cherry bomb out the car window as Butch was on the run. Blowing up, it would scare the living daylights out of the animal, and their dog would never pursue another car ever again.

So Justin, his dad, and Uncle Ev climbed into the front seat of the family’s brown Buick while the three younger siblings piled into the back. Finally, they would eradicate that hated flaw and have the perfect pet!

Well, Butch was gleefully besides himself—sensing the heightened emotion, spotting all the kids giggling in the car! Nothing could stop him barking and jumping for joy alongside as the automobile reached the end of the driveway. The Buick pulled out to implement Uncle Ev’s strategic, perfect plan. Butch was right there as expected.

In all the excitement, however, Butch discovered himself on the “wrong side” of N 950 W. Aiming to get over to his usual runway in the shallow ditch—for a reason unknown to this day—he attempted a dash across the front of the gradually accelerating vehicle.

Dad certainly didn’t anticipate the course correction and, besides, everyone was wide-eyed glued to Uncle Ev, with window cranked-down, about to detonate the explosive. Then in a breath-taking second before the fuse was lit, CA-THUMP. . . CA-THUMP.

Yes, the unthinkable. It all happened so fast. They had driven right over Butch.

Pandemonium unleashed.

The family car screeched to a halt. Justin and his sibling were screaming and wailing at the top of their lungs. The kids leaped out and dashed back to the spot in the middle of the road where Butch’s body lay, motionless. A sympathetic crowd of relatives and neighbors gathered as a beautiful day had now turned dark as night. Cruelly robbed of all comfort, the children wept buckets of tears over their dear dog’s life-less form—peaking up only to hurl hate-stares at their dear Uncle Ev.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow
As dad ushered home his “congregants” of grieving children and saddened relatives, he instructed Justin to go get a shovel. Unceremoniously, the lad dug a shallow grave in the shallow ditch on the side of the road—straight across from where his best friend was stopped dead in his tracks.

All being told, the fact is Uncle Ev’s plan worked. Sort of. As promised, Butch never chased another car again. His one and only flaw, removed forever.

If somewhere there’s a pet heaven, doesn’t it make perfect sense? There could now be only one place for the now perfect dog.

Sadly, it’s not unusual to focus on the defects of others, and to miss enjoyment of their countless wonderful qualities. Failing to appreciate another in spite of, if not because of, their inevitable faults threatens regrettable loss once their flaws are gone for good.

H. David Schuringa
(With a nod to Hawthorne)

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Someday, as a growing nonprofit, a gift much larger than you usually receive will arrive. A “big one.” You’ve secretly hoped for it and then, one magical day, it happens. But when can a mega-gift become a mega-problem?

After dad sold his three grocery stores in Chicago, our family moved out to De Motte, Indiana to start an egg ranch from scratch. With his supermarket background he held a significant edge over other egg producers— he knew the grocery business.

As the enterprise grew, he attracted larger and larger stores, and then small chains of supermarkets. But as a teen I remember a time he actually turned down one of the largest chains in Chicagoland.

Puzzled, I asked WHY?

BLESSING OR CURSE?
His answer: the chain would be too large a percentage of his business. If they would drop him, for some reason, it would cripple operations and, maybe, shut him down—meaning job-loss for a lot of people we employed.

Eventually, however, we had expanded enough to absorb the chain and gladly serviced the account.

Some learn this lesson the hard way, like Bob on the West Coast. He was lucky enough to have Home Depot as his customer, but his only customer.

Bob shared with me that it kept him awake at nights, though the account sure made business a breeze. A couple years later his worst nightmare came true. The loss crushed operations, never to recover.

HOW MUCH IS TOO MUCH?
There’s a lesson here for nonprofits. Fundraising is no picnic. You definitely must work hard for broad grassroots support at $10 or $50 at a time. Having said that, you know nonprofits today are increasingly in need of large gifts as the middle class shrinks.

Some philanthropists ward off a crisis for you and, as a rule, hesitate to donate much more than 10% of your budget. So if the donor’s investments hit hard times, or he contracts donor fatigue, the shortage would not cripple you permanently. Most donors don’t want to be saddled with organizational dependence, unless they have in mind to become the behind-the-scenes CEO.

So you must decide what would be “too large” a donation. Ask yourself whether your agency could go on without that gift next year. If not, you may have a problem.

Here’s three ways to insure that you don’t.

HANDLING SUCCESS SUCCESSFULLY
Unlike a business, you don’t have to turn the donor down. And there are options besides lighting up a cigar and coasting on easy street for the rest of the year.

1. Invest in a one-time project. Facility expansion is but one example, if your operating budget can maintain the property. Large donors often designate their gifts to projects, but if they don’t, there’s nothing stopping you from doing so.

2. Create an emergency fund. In the aftermath of 9/11, donations abruptly turned to the East Coast. In a few short years followed the recession. Both unforeseen crises damaged countless good causes, some irreparably, because they didn’t have an adequate emergency fund to weather the storms. Religious nonprofits sometimes assume that if they are doing God’s will, he will supply. That’s about as wise as going without health insurance.

3. Save the gift for a big project. When God sends a huge donation your way, he must have a big plan for your nonprofit. So save the money until you figure out what it is! If the donor stays with you, however, you can incrementally enlarge your operation’s expenditures. (If it’s an estate gift, you know the answer already.)

THINK AND PRAY
Today, a $25,000 gift might be a mega-gift for you. But its loss won’t make you donor-dependent by the time you are also getting $100,000 gifts. The larger your nonprofit, the larger the gifts you can absorb without cutting services to your clients in need, or laying off personnel, if a check doesn’t materialize.

Never put yourself into a position where you lay awake at nights wondering what might happen if a donor’s blessing dries up. Treasure the thousands of smaller gifts—remember the widow’s mite—and manage wisely the larger ones that you also gratefully receive.

Without a doubt, funding your nonprofit is ultimately in God’s hands. In answer to your prayers he moves donors to be touched by your cause. But the Giver of every gift also intends you to use your head as you go about your Father’s business.

H. David Schuringa

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Trending: The Nonprofit Leaders Digest