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Save Our School:
A fantastic book for Jewish girls & boys! Meet the wackiest, funniest, klutziest group of girls in a Bais Yaakov as they take on a new mission: to save their school!
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Chevy was so busy managing the sale that she didn’t have time to dwell on her concern and surprise over the fact that fifty thousand dollars hadn’t come in within the first three days of the letter-writing campaign. Sarala had handed over a ten-dollar donation from a cousin, and Rivky had thirty-six dollars from an old colleague of her father. That led to a total of $46.50.
Chevy talked it up during lunch on the third day after the letters were mailed.
“Okay, girls, we’re doing great! We’re well on our way to our first hundred! We’ve almost got fifty, in fact!”
The girls clapped wildly.
“But that’s only a small fraction of what we need. It’s only, in terms of percents, uh - ”
“It’s approximately .05 percent,” supplied Devorah.
Chevy began to wish Devorah did something besides analyze their financial situation.
“Well, good,” she said, only it was a bit forced. “That’s great! Halfway to one tenth of a percent! At this rate we’ll be there in no time - well, in some time - whatever. Soon. Only we should maybe pick up some more speed. The letters are in the mail, so that’s good too - I’m sure they’ll bring in tons. But now we’ve got to focus on the sale. It’s got to be a great sale! The best ever! Now, I know what you’re all working on. Just want to note that you’re each in charge of your own pricing. It’s a skill, pricing. You don’t want to give things away for nothing. But if you’re too expensive, no one will buy. So be careful. Okay, that’s it till Sunday, 1:30 at my house. And remember, if anyone gets - that is, when more money comes in, just hand it over and I’ll add it to the fund.”
When Chevy got home that night her first stop was the little table in the entrance hall where the mail lay. Surely today she’d get a response to at least a few of the five hundred letters.
She stopped short. The stack of mail was thick.
With shaking hands, she flipped through it. Here was a letter addressed to her…another…and another…she counted in disbelief…twenty-five! There were twenty five letters addressed to her.
“That was fast!” she said to herself.
Too fast? She opened one up, and pulled out the sheet of paper it contained. “ ‘To Whom It May Concern: We write you this letter to request urgent financial - ’ What??” she sputtered.
She opened another - the same.
Was this some kind of trick? Had her classmates decided to solicit money from her?
She opened all of them, one after the other, totally destroying the envelopes in the process. They were all the same. They were all requests for money.
And then she noticed that each one included an envelope, and written on the included envelopes, very neatly, were names and addresses of alumnae… She recognized the handwriting. Yehudis Katz!
Yehudis had mixed up which envelope was which and had sent them all to Chevy.
Chevy was up late that night, uncreasing the letters and placing them into the larger envelopes. These people wouldn’t have return envelopes-oh well. But Yehudis!
Something had to be done.