Under Attack

I feel under attack.

I'm not under attack by weapons or rampaging crowds, but by those wanting money from me. Most every day's mail delivery brings appeals for some organization’s 'annual fund drive' or some emergency somewhere in the world.

I am a pretty generous person, but this year's rampant inflation has me thinking more about my finances than I have in a long time. So I have really cut back on my charitable donations. 

I get appeals for yet more money from non-profits to which I have previously donated. I get appeals from organizations to which I have never given a dime. I get appeals from an organization to which I gave money once 20 years ago. It never stops. And it's really annoying.

Most of the time these appeals never make it inside my house. They go directly into the outdoor recycling container. 

Sometimes it seems that all these non-profits do with my donations is to print and mail still more appeals for money. One day a few years ago I received two different appeals from a single group on the same day. I haven't sent anything to that organization since then, and I never will. My generosity has a limit. I'm not going to give a $1,500 donation just because I once felt very generous and donated $500. 

I get it. Times are tough. Everything is extremely expensive. Charities are facing decreased donations and more requests for help. But hitting up donors for still more donations -- and bigger donations -- risks driving those donors away. 

I'm pretty burned out on donating. I know the need is there, but I can't give to every group that asks. There is a group of perhaps 12 charities to which I give donations, and I'm not going to add any others to my pool of charities and get repeated appeals from yet another organization. 

I wish I could give more, lots more, to my charities of choice. But the bottom line is, I simply can’t. And I really resent being hounded for more and bigger donations by the groups to which I already give. Please, don’t send me calendars or address labels or note cards that I don’t want and I won’t use. It’s a waste of donor money.

My well of compassion is about to run dry.