Her name was Gracie, She lived in a run down little house with her husband and three kids. The house sat on the property of a large farm and was for the main farm hand, which was Gracie's husband, Willie. Their rent was almost nothing, because Willie pretty much ran the farm...until he got sick. He was thirty three when he got Pancreatic cancer, and thirty five when he died.
My thought's of Gracie and Willie and their family come to me, because it was around this time of the year he died. They were very poor, but they had a deep love for each other. We just went through a holiday that asks us to think of the things to be grateful for.
Once he was diagnosed it took twenty two months for it to kill him, leaving behind Gracie and her three children. The farmer told her he wouldn't rush her out of the house, but eventually she would have to leave.
This would have effected anyone, anytime, but to be so close to Christmas it somehow became an obsession to do something. She didn't have the money for a burial stone, plus her kids ranged in age from four to seven. I was the only one where I worked that knew of Gracie.
She was from the hills of Tennessee. I lived in Ohio. I knew her whole story from the John Hopkins pancreatic cancer board. I was with her through his whole ordeal. Many of us were, but I didn't know what, or if anyone was going to try and help.
I decided I would go to my company, explain the situation, and ask permission to try and collect money for her. They approved my request. Now, it was a question of what I do to get it. My goal was one thousand dollars. That was a lot, and I didn't have lots of time. I got the company to let me sell raffle tickets for a dollar a ticket...winner takes all.
All together, that raised close to three hundred dollars, I worked with the greatest bunch of people. Some just handed me money. I printed up pictures of her and her family and posted them all over the building. Underneath, I told Gracie's story. Gracie was poor, but she also was a proud woman. She wouldn't ask for help.
With time running out I came up with this stupid idea of selling tickets to see my trip to LA, to the Beverly Hilton. We had it on DVD. But, what the company would only allow, was for me to show my first try at stand up comedy. It was PanCan's biggest fundraiser, and I was asked to speak as a three year survivor. What the organizers didn't know was I wasn't going to speak on being a survivor. I had always wanted to know what it felt like to stand up on stage and make total strangers laugh. With three hundred people going to be there, this would be my one and only chance. Sue taped the whole routine, which lasted fourteen minutes.
I didn't set a price. I was too terrified. The people in LA laughed and gave me an ovation, but these were people I knew, paying money to watch it, so I set a can by the door of the cafeteria and hung a sign that just asked to give what you could. I had this overwhelming fear no-one would pay to see a home movie. I was amazed at the response.
The company told me I would have to do two showings, which meant no production on the floor. When both showing were over, I counted the money. My friends came through. All total in three days I had raised over six hundred dollars. Sue and I discussed it, and decided to give the remaining four hundred dollars, as a Christmas gift to each other. About eight days before Christmas I was able to gift wrap an old check box, filled with fifty brand new twenty dollar bills. I sent it by US Mail, anonymously. I didn't want her to know where it came from. I wanted it to feel like a miracle. The only thing I did was write a note written by some unknown writer that I had read some thirty years prior. They are words that I have never forgotten.
She received this package containing the money four days before Christmas,and a note that said..
"Of the many Legends that surround Christmas, there is one that says..
"On this night..Lost things are Found."
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