It’s a safe bet that I won’t be moved by junk mail, if at all, I open one. Who is, anyway?
The envelope from Amnesty International, which came last week, appeared no different from the many in its league: thick, with a garden-variety postage stamp, and a typewritten address on it.
M. brought it to me, half-opened, reading aloud the contents of the direct mailer inside. As she shuffled the pages, she found within them a few stationery articles: a sheet of personal return address labels, a sticker, and a little card (made from recycled paper.)
None of these were fancy. But I was sold on the message. I don’t know what about all this stirred me. Possibly, it was the subtle gesture of sending a little gift before asking for a pledge. At any rate, an inner voice galvanized me to send the non-profit a modest donation.
I don’t take marketing baits that easily. But I certainly do take good causes seriously.