That afternoon, Beatrice posted online:
Caption: Tonight, we celebrate generosity, compassion, and exciting new beginnings!
I showed the post to Mom.
“The turkey woman?”
“Yep.”
“What’s happening tonight?”
“She’s learning humility.”
Mom grinned. “Can I come?”
“Doctor’s orders say rest.”
“Doctors ruin everything.”
By five o’clock, I’d arrived at Beatrice’s restaurant with Walter’s permission to coordinate the charitable activities.
Daniel, the restaurant manager, greeted us near the kitchen.
“Beatrice ordered champagne towers and imported desserts,” he said.
“And the charity contribution?”
“A percentage of tonight’s proceeds.”
I looked at Walter. “Seriously?”
He sighed. “Daniel, can your kitchen prepare two hundred meals with extra staff?”
“Absolutely.”
“We’ll pack grocery boxes too.”
Walter agreed to finance the supplies and transportation.
“One more thing,” I told him. “Introduce me to your biggest donors. I want to fund something beyond tonight.”
He smiled. “I know just the people.”
I personally telephoned Margaret.
“Rachel? Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor.”
“A favor? After what you did for me?”
“It’s a little unusual.”
“Well, now you’ve got me curious.”
I explained my proposal.
Margaret hesitated.
“Will that woman be there?”
“Yes. But it’s entirely your choice.”
After another pause, she agreed.
“All right, honey. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, Margaret.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t expect me to wear anything fancy.”
I laughed. “Deal.”
Beatrice’s introduction to practical generosity was approaching.
By seven, wealthy donors were entering the restaurant.
Beatrice appeared in a sparkling designer gown.
“Welcome!” she announced. “Tonight is about giving back!”
I almost choked on my water.
She spotted me and approached. “Rachel. I hope you’ve finished whatever Walter asked you to organize.”
“Almost. Everything’s coming together.”
“Good. Just make sure nothing interferes with my speech.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“And please don’t embarrass me in front of my guests.”
I smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
Satisfied, she headed toward the stage.
While she worried about delivering her speech, I anticipated what would follow.
Walter tapped the microphone.
“Good evening, everyone.”
Beatrice hurried forward.
After thanking the donors and praising the foundation’s mission, Walter announced:
“Tonight, we’re introducing a more hands-on approach to generosity.”
Beatrice straightened, apparently expecting an appointment.
“Our wonderful hostess, Beatrice, will personally lead this activity.”
Guests applauded.
Her smile weakened.
Walter gestured toward me. “Rachel, please explain.”
I stepped forward. “After dinner, we’ll prepare two hundred grocery packages and hot meals for local families.”
Applause grew louder.
“Our chefs and volunteers have organized everything. And Beatrice will be leading by example.”
Beatrice stared. “Leading what?”
I lifted an apron.
“Congratulations. You’re our first volunteer.”
She stared at it. “You’re joking.”
“Not even slightly.”
“This dress costs four thousand dollars!”
“Then it’s fortunate the apron is complimentary.”
Laughter spread through the room.
Beatrice had spent months preparing to become the public face of charity, but actual physical work wasn’t what she’d envisioned.
Reluctantly, she tied on the apron.
“Where are my employees?”
“Preparing meals.”
“Then they can pack everything!”
“They’re already working. You’re joining them.”
“I don’t know how!”
“Excellent opportunity to learn.”
I demonstrated the packing process.
“Rice, canned vegetables, pasta, soup. Follow the list.”
Beatrice inspected the supplies.
“These labels should face outward!”
A businessman beside her laughed. “Does it matter?”
“Presentation is everything!”
“Actually,” I said, handing her another bag, “food is everything.”
Twenty minutes later, Beatrice marched toward Walter.
“I’ve demonstrated enough.”
“Have you?”
“I packed six boxes!”
“Wonderful. Only one hundred ninety-four to go.”
“Walter!”
“Fortunately, other volunteers are helping.”
