“You know you can’t run a campaign without Ayala’s approval.”

The Shapiro NPO Consulting office didn’t look quite as intimidating on her third visit, Dini reflected as she walked confidently up to the secretary and announced her name. The secretary waved her in, and Temima stood up and smiled as she entered.

“Lovely to see you again,” she said.  “Tell me how Chesed Tzirel’s been doing since we last spoke.”

Dini updated her about the launch of her volunteer group and glowed with pride as Temima exclaimed, “Very impressive! You took this concept and ran with it. To see such success so quickly is pretty unusual.”

Dini beamed. “We’ve also added another medical liaison to our staff, to handle the growing volume.”

“Fabulous!”

Dini leaned forward.  “That’s actually why I’m here. I need to pay another salary, plus cover all our volunteer group expenses. And, well… help?”

Temima laughed. “Money, money, money. That little thing that gets in the way of all our grand chesed plans.” She picked up a pen. “I’m joking, of course. Really, I firmly believe that it’s the other way around. Dream big, plan big, and the funding will come.”

Dini nodded. That sounded like something her father would say. Speaking of… “Well, I’ve already acted on that advice. And it’s going great, except that I keep charging everything to my father’s credit card, and one of these days he just might ask me why my expenses have gone up, like five hundred percent in the past few months.” She winked.

Temima looked startled for a moment before settling her face back to businesslike, but, catching the expression, Dini cringed. Had she just exposed herself as a spoiled rich girl?

“Sounds like you have a very handy credit card,” Temima said with a small laugh. “But I agree, it’s not a viable long-term financial plan.” She opened her notepad. “So let’s talk. How much would you need to raise in order to cover your monthly costs today and also leave some wiggle room for growth?”

Dini nodded confidently and pulled out a piece of paper. Had she been asked this question a few months ago, she would have squirmed and scratched her head. Keeping track of money was not something she’d ever needed to do before, and she’d never had a good idea of how much things cost. But over the past few weeks, with her responsibility for Bracha’s salary on her mind, she’d made a point of noticing.

She still wasn’t sure if what she was spending was considered a lot or a little. (“A lot,” Ayala would no doubt inform her. “Far too little to do anything properly,” her mother would assert.)  But at least she had actual, intelligent numbers to present. Without Ayala’s help. Without Shuki’s advice.

Dini squared her shoulders. She had this. What an awesome feeling.

Temima scanned Dini’s list of expenses, tapping her pen on the table. “How many volunteer events do you aim to run each month?”

“So far, we’ve been doing a get-together about once every two or three weeks. For now, I think it’s the right amount.”

Temima nodded. “So, according to this, you’re spending between ten- and fifteen-thousand dollars a month.” She looked up. “But you have another salary as well, don’t you?”