The Promise of a Pencil: How an Ordinary Person Can Create Extraordinary Change by Adam Braun Read Free Book Online Page B

he looked to support.
    He explained that he had a staff of local Cambodians, which was best for the children they supported, but he needed help raising funds back in the States. I immediately agreed to become the Cambodian Children’s Fund’s first fundraising coordinator and vowed to devote my senior year of college to helping the organization educate more children.
    Since I was born on Halloween, I planned out the costume party I had always hosted for my birthday, but this time I asked for a $10 donation at the door in lieu of gifts. The party raised several thousand dollars and would be the first of many events I’d host to support the CCF.
    Although the first party was a success, I ran into a roadblock when planning the next event. I had no proof that I was affiliated with the CCF, so I couldn’t get nonprofit discounts on venues I tried to rent. When I asked Scott for a way to acknowledge my association, he mailed me my own two-sided business cards. On one sideit listed my name and “Fundraising Coordinator” in English, and on the other side it was translated into Khmer, the native language of Cambodia.
    It was such a small thing, but those business cards were the best gift I’d ever received. I felt that I belonged. I felt that I mattered. The $20 investment it took to produce those business cards gave me a sense of value and enabled me to raise thousands of dollars for the CCF over the next few years. I suddenly had an identity that I could be proud of, and all it took was a piece of paper.
    *  *  *
    Although I had a sharper sense of purpose than ever before, I still had this lingering feeling that no one understood me. I’d gone through such a rapid and profound transformation over my four years of college, and sometimes I felt as though my life was trailing far behind where my mind was taking me. When I hatched plans to launch a nonprofit after graduation, my parents, professors, and peers all tried to dissuade me. I’d worked hard to complete a triple major in economics, sociology, and public and private sector organizations, and they didn’t want me to squander it. “You should go work at the highest levels in business,” they said. “This way you can make as much money as possible and then use those dollars in your forties or fifties to fund something that will better the world.”
    Reluctantly, I decided to follow their rationale. I knew my résumé was strong enough to open a lot of doors, and I began applying to the most lucrative jobs that a recent graduate could attain. But I knew that deep inside I was now driven by something completely different.
    The spare cash I’d earned through the jobs I’d held over the years had allowed me to accumulate some savings, but whenever I looked into my wallet, the single most important item in there wasalways my CCF business card. It meant so much more to me than the dollar bills it rested beside because it enabled me to belong to something bigger than myself. Purpose can manifest from so many different places, but it most often appears through the small things that enable us to feel connected to a broader whole.
    Although I was about to plunge into the corporate sector, my CCF business cards unlocked a feeling that I wanted to explore further. I decided to take one more big trip into the developing world. I had my backpack, a pair of aviators, and enough cash to last four months in Latin America.
    The only thing left to do was to write a will and hop on a plane heading south.

Mantra 6

TOURISTS SEE, TRAVELERS SEEK
    I can’t explain exactly why I did it, but rationally, or irrationally, I just decided that it had to be done. I was twenty-three years old and I wrote a will.
    I didn’t have much: my music went to my sister, journals to my brother, and any money I’d made went to the Cambodian Children’s Fund. I typed up the document after dinner the night before I left and asked my mother to sign as a witness.
    As she held the pen to sign my will,