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.
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