The $5 Club
Learn about it here!

Recently I received an invitation from our daughter Cynthia to attend the first-ever meeting of the $5 Club at her home.

            “What is a $5 Club?”  I asked.

            “Come and see,” she replied.  “And bring $5.”

            So here we are this afternoon, about 30 women sitting on folding chairs in Cynthia’s family room.  While getting to know each other, we have been nibbling on the snacks she has set out.  Our common bond is that we all know Cynthia from some layer of her life:  school days, college, law school, her professional organizations, or the places she has worked.  And now the purpose of the event is about to be revealed.

            “When you checked in this afternoon,” Cynthia says, “you each deposited your $5 in a basket and then wrote your name on one of the ‘cause’ sheets I had lying on the card table:  ‘world hunger,’  ‘childhood sexual abuse,’ ‘homelessness,’ ‘cancer,’ ‘domestic violence,’ or ‘other.’  I’d now like you to form small groups, each composed of the people who chose the same cause.  Discuss among yourselves why you think your particular concern is more deserving of our support than the others.  If you chose an ‘other’ cause, explain it.  Each group then selects a spokesperson who, after we reassemble, will advocate for that cause.  Your goal is to try to persuade people supporting other concerns to move into your group.  Then, at the end, all our $5 bills will go to the single cause with the most champions.“

The small groups are quickly formed in various parts of the room, and soon animated conversation bubbles from every corner.  Cynthia’s sister Michelle and I have both selected the same “other” cause:  Riley Hospital for Children, where her 3-year-old son Andrew is in treatment for leukemia.  There are five of us in

 this “other” group:  the single person who chose “world hunger,” a woman advocating for “literacy,” and three of us who have connections with Riley.  But after Michelle tells Andrew’s story and the woman beside her shares how the hospital has helped her nephew, the others suggest we make ours a unified advocacy for Riley.

       After we reassembled, the impassioned, eloquent speeches began.  The spokesperson for helping childhood sexual abuse victims quickly had us all in her camp.  Then Michelle shared how Riley Hospital has restored hope for her family, and all heads nod in support of childhood cancer research.  Next, the advocate for homelessness convinced us that any of us could, by whim of accident, illness, or natural disaster, find ourselves living under a bridge.  Then the champion for the largest group, “cancer,” spoke to the enormity of this problem in our society, and several soul-gripping stories are shared. 

By now we were all awash in indecision.  How to choose?

The last group had only two members, its spokesperson a beautiful blonde woman in her early 30s.  “I am a single mom raising two little girls,” she began, “and I am a victim of domestic violence.”

She said that this tragedy occurs in all socio-economic groups and it is not always possible to know before marriage how you will be treated afterwards.  In her case, the abuse came as a complete shock.  Nothing she tried made the situation any better.  Eventually, she told us, she almost killed herself.  “I had a bottle of pills and was ready to take them,” she said. “I told God that I had prayed and prayed, and nothing had happened, and I was done.  Done!”

         But on that late December, desperate afternoon, God sent her friend, now sitting beside her.

This friend convinced her to put away the pills and start a new life.  She did.  She exchanged her luxurious house and stay-at- home-mom status for a financially cramped, but safe, life.  Through incredibly hard work and struggle, she recently completed college and has just taken the LSAT, the qualifying exam for law school.

The room erupted in applause.  The group advocating for “childhood sexual abuse victims” now decided its cause is similar enough to form a coalition with “domestic violence,” and the “homelessness” group quickly followed suit. The “ Riley Hospital ” women then merged with the “cancer” people.” 

Cynthia announced, “Well, there are now 16 people in the ‘domestic violence’ group and 13 in the ‘cancer’ alliance.  We have $175 in our basket.  Apparently some of you contributed extra.  Anyway, it looks as though the money will go to....” 

“Wait!” called out the former champion for the homeless.  “All of us here could easily pitch in another $5, and then we could support both big groups!”

But Cynthia is adamant.  “No,” she said.  “My contract with you was for $5 each.   We will keep it at that, and ‘domestic violence’ wins.”  She named the local agency that will be the recipient.

“But, if your cause did not succeed this time, it could still have another chance,” she continued. “You can host a $5 Club party for your circle of friends.  Then some of those people might want to do the same.  And in that way far more than $175 will eventually be garnered for these, and probably many other causes.” 

Everyone cheered.

With that, Cynthia handed us each a small, rolled-up piece of purple paper inside a tiny bag.  Opening mine, I read: