In the summer of 2011, my friend Carol, a nurse, joined a mercy mission to Haiti to treat people still suffering from the January 2010 earthquake. A last minute volunteer, she hadn’t had time to fundraise, but was expected to buy and bring all kinds of medical supplies – bandages, Tylenol, alcohol wipes, rubber gloves. Everything.
To help defray the cost, Carol sent emails to some friends, and we donated to help defray her costs.
A week after she got back, Carol invited me and three women I had never met over for a glass of wine to thank us, celebrate her return and hear about her trip.
One of the women, Mary Grace, rubbed me wrong immediately. The middle-aged bleached blond wore a tight sparkly dress that screamed “I’m still 20!” with gold glitter-encrusted flip flops.
Before we were even introduced, I heard her say,
“Now they’re going after…
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