Saturday, May 12, 2012

Garage Sale and JDRF Craft Fundraiser

Can you sell a pancreas at a garage sale?

We had a garage sale today.

I went into the idea of sorting, organizing, cleaning, tagging and being a salelady, kicking and screaming.  Like most of you, this time of year is absolutely overwhelming with the amount of activities scheduled on the calendar. 

Even with a temper-tantrum (or twenty), I did it.

Many clean rooms and a little bit of cash later, I was very glad too.

Since this garage sale was held on a Friday, my daughters were at school and unable to hold their usual lemonade stand to raise money for our Naturally Sweet Sisters walk team.  Instead, they pulled out a box of crafts that they had been working on since the winter holidays.  The box included handcrafted earrings and little tiny rag-a-muffin dolls that youngest daughter named, "Foofies".  

Before leaving for school, the girls set up a display with a JDRF collection jar and offering their hand-crafted goodies for "free" with donation at the entrance to the sale.

For most of the day the jar and the craft items sat; lonely and overlooked.

Than a woman in her late 30s came by and asked about the JDRF collection jar.  She wanted to know if we participated in the walk.  I said we did and we were able to strike up a conversation about type 1 diabetes and mutual friends.  She did not have type 1 herself, but had a co-worker who had a daughter diagnosed.  After a bit, we realized that I was friends with the co-worker. 

That lady put a dollar into our jar.

A bit of time passed and another man stopped to pause and read the sign.  He quietly placed a dollar into the jar too and then, decided he was done with garage sale and walked back down.  Only giving a backwards wave when we said thank you.

And so it continued.  One dollar here or there.

Finally, just as we are looking at the last, sad remnants of our sale (most had been sold and tables emptied), a young lady in her twenties came by.  She walked over the jar and placed a $5.00 bill inside.  She turned to me and said, "I have lived with type 1 diabetes for 25 years and I hate it.  All I want is a cure.  Maybe after me, the kids will finally have one."

I didn't know what to say. 

This lady had obviously lived with type 1 diabetes in a way that was harder than I could ever imagine.  She was down.  Her spirit seemed crushed.  She didn't look at all like what I remember feeling like in my twenties.  She looked sad and tired.  Yet, still something remained hopeful.  She hadn't given up on a cure. 

Even after she was done with living with diabetes.

And for this single reason, we will always walk. 


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