"Anything is possible," our mentors have been saying. "Stay open. Try and have no fixed expectations."
A few nights ago I knocked on a door only to be told that the guy from another charity had just been round. "Oh well, I guess he's beaten me to it," I said. But it was one of those situations where as I turned around and made my way back down the garden path, the householder called me back and asked to see the booklet.
I went back again tonight, and the response when the door opened this time was "What would you like us to do? Do you want money, or would you like us to visit India and work for one of the projects?". I said I thought that it was very generous of them to consider the latter, but that the former would also be a great help.
"Ok, why don't you come in?". (It usually seems to be a good sign when someone asks you in).
The husband swopped amusing tales of travel in Rajasthan with me while his wife filled in the standing order form. The husband hadn't read the booklet, so his wife explained to him that this wasn't another case of endlessly pouring money into a situation, these are projects that are actually helping people up and out of poverty. I wish I could remember her exact words - they sounded much better to me than the lines I've been habitually trotting out.
Once we were done, I cast my eye down the form and realised they'd pledged £25 per month - fantastic! I hadn't had one for that amount before. That did my confidence no end of good.
As chance would have it, I had an appointment to call back to the house right next door that evening as well, so it seemed easy and logical to go there next. At first a babysitter answered and made as if the homeowner wasn't in, but eventually the bloke I'd spoken to earlier in the week came to the door.
"We'd like to make a contribution," he said, thrusting a £20 note from the Bank of Ulster into my hand.
"Thank you, that's very kind," I said. "I hope you don't find this impertinent, but it really helps us if you can give regularly: either monthly or quarterly or annually. It helps us plan ahead in terms of which projects we can support."
"Ok, come on in," he replied. Three of his nine children were in the front room, said they thought it was a good idea, and helped us to fill in a standing order form.
"How much do you normally ask people to give?" he asked.
"Well, we suggest £25 per month if you can manage it," I ventured.
"Ok, sign us up!". Two £25 covenants in one night! I could hardly believe my luck.
It turns out our new magnanimous benefactor is very sympathetic to Buddhism, meditates every morning, and his company is helping to arrange a mortgage for an FWBO centre elsewhere in the UK.
What a contrast to last night. Even before these fortuitous encounters, I felt much more happy and relaxed, enjoying being affirming towards people on their doorsteps, whether they were interested in supporting Karuna or not.
