by Brad Layland, Chief Executive Officer & Senior Consultant
About fifteen years ago, I was helping a brand-new major gift officer at The Bowery Mission, one of our clients, as he began validating his first caseload. He was starting his work with donors who had been giving generously to The Bowery Mission, but had never had a gift officer assigned to them.
One donor in particular stood out. She was giving more than $1,000 a month—sometimes more often than that. All her giving had been online, so no one had ever sat down with her to discuss it. She lived on Long Island, and when we looked up her address, it was in a wealthy neighborhood. Zillow showed the house was worth a fortune. Everything pointed to her being a significant major donor.
So we made a plan: this new officer would make the trip to meet her, and I’d join him as part of his training.
When we arrived at the impressive home, our assumptions seemed confirmed—until the people at the front door explained that our donor didn’t live there. She and her husband rented out the garage apartment in the back.
We walked around to a small one-room home where two people welcomed us with incredible warmth. It was immediately clear: these were not wealthy people. They were living very modestly, working hard to make ends meet. And yet, they had been giving over $1,000 every month to The Bowery Mission.
They had even prepared a meal for us: a beautifully displayed meatloaf dinner.
Here’s where things got tricky: the gift officer I was training was vegan and hadn’t eaten meat in 10 years. He was suddenly faced with a dilemma:
- Should he hold to his convictions and politely decline, risking offense?
- Or should he receive what was offered, entering into the generosity of people who were clearly sacrificing to support The Bowery Mission?
Now, let me pause and say this: he didn’t have to eat the meat. He could have explained graciously and still honored their effort. But in that moment, he chose to eat the meatloaf.
Later, as we drove away, he said something I’ll never forget: “For all the sacrifices they’ve made, what a small sacrifice I can make. I trust that whatever happens in my stomach is part of my worship to the Lord.”
That day reminded me of several key principles I teach in fundraising:
- Fundraising is about entering into another person’s world.
We thought we were walking into a mansion to meet a wealthy benefactor. Instead, we walked into a garage apartment and met saints. True fundraising means seeing donors for who they are and honoring their story.
- Giving is a way of life.
For this couple, generosity wasn’t about excess—it was about sacrifice. They had very little, yet they gave joyfully and consistently. That’s the kind of generosity that humbles and transforms everyone involved.
Ultimately, fundraising is never just about the dollars raised. It’s about people. It’s about entering into their world, honoring their sacrifices, and allowing ourselves to be changed in the process.
That day on Long Island, over a plate of meatloaf in a one-room home, we didn’t just meet donors. We encountered a sacred lesson in generosity.
We’ve been privileged to help many organizations be more effective in their fundraising by learning and implementing relational fundraising principles in their work with donors. Want to talk?