waiting for mail

I remember a short film our sunday school teachers showed us..I think it was called "The Letter". It was about an elderly woman who shuffled her weary bones to the mailbox every day waiting for a letter. There was some heart strings pulling as the film dwelled on her disappointed face day after day. Right now, I don't remember if it was a specific letter she was waiting for since the gist of it was about loneliness and anticipation. I might have sent my grandmas a couple of letters after watching this film. Guilt can be powerful.

Now we wait for emails, texts and reactions to posts.

Since February of this year, I have been waiting for a letter from the IRS. I turned in all my required papers (or should I saw "legal zoom" turned them all in for a pretty penny) for my 501c3 non profit application. While I waited, I continued to prepare my business as if I had a charity. I'd work out the details later if my plan was not accepted. I told myself that all I really wanted was a way to receive donations that would benefit and motivate good citizens and companies to help fund Camp CARE.

As the deadline ( an arbitrary day I was advised I'd be notified by) approached and my mailbox continued to contain catalogs and bills, I told myself that I could still fund things myself by selling artwork and collecting tuition from paying students ("campers"). I decided I was ok with keeping things small and who really donates to charity with the intention of it being a tax write off?

The deadline passed and I was already resigned to continue building a "social enterprise".

Then, on May 19, I went to the post office on my way to work like usual (living in a rural town requires post office boxes) and there between the grocery store ads and power bill was a letter from the IRS. I still calmed myself with my resolve to dream a little smaller.

As I read the letter, the words "accepted" didn't seem real at first. Did my brain trick me?

Reading again..seeing the "happy to inform you" adjusted the word "accepted" and then I just found myself wondering why there wasn't confetti in the envelope.

My butterflies sufficed.

Yes! signed by Steven in the IRS building, I wanted to send Steven a handpainted thank you card!!!

So, I am the founder and director of Camp C.A.R.E. 501c3 today.

A dream realized at last. More responsibility than fanfare.

As it should be.

Send up a prayer and good juju if you have some to spare.

peace, love and light, Tori