On March 27, an impossible dream became reality—the first fundraising gala of the TriUnity Foundation.
Led by LeAnn Case, TriUnity is a new national nonprofit that was launched by Jed Meyer at St. Cloud Financial CU to award cash grants of $2,500 and $10,000 to members suffering financial trauma from cancer and other terminal illnesses.
Below are the remarks I had the privilege to share as the event’s keynote speaker.
By the end of the evening, we’d raised over $166,000.
And we’re just getting started.
Once upon a time.
It's only right to start with those words, on this groundbreaking night of stories and celebrations for the TriUnity Foundation, our first gala, the first of many.
Once upon a time.
That simple phrase is the signal that something important is about to happen, that something amazing lies ahead. These four words are how storytellers of all stripes and times have given their audiences a sense of place, and a passport into another world.
We meet the hero of the story here, at the beginning, upon a time. Young, old, rich, poor, man and woman, every color and size . . . the hero can look like anyone and everyone, their shapes and skills limited only by imagination.
We see in them glimpses of ourselves, hints of the people we could and should be. We cheer for them because they are who we want to be.
Once upon a time.
That's the way that many of our recipient's stories started. They had a sense of place once. Hopes and dreams. Worlds to build, cherished corners of the world where they planned to live and love in peace.
One day...
Every story turns on those two words.
In storytelling, it's called the inciting event, the disruption, the surprise, the fault line that splits the hero into before and after. Here in the real world, it's called something far uglier:
Cancer. Disease. Struggle. Strife. Whispered apologies. Grim diagnoses. "Unfortunately, we found...", "I'm sorry, but you have…".
Life dissolves under the weight of those words. Dreams wither. Life constricts. Hope bends. Hearts break. Hard days fade into sleepless nights.
The villain is fully unmasked here as the hero's opponent and enemy, the forever antagonist, panic made real.
The villain claims the hero's faith first. Gone is the hero's certainty that the brighter days upon which they dreamed, once upon a time, are ahead.
“Who will be here for me? How long will this last for us? How will we live? Will we live? Will I live?”
Questions become chorus, doubt sings futility.
Everyone in this room knows that song, unfortunately. It drowns out anything that can resolve the dissonance.
These are the corners and troughs of life, where the shadows are deepest, where light and hope pass around and over but never through.
These are not easy places to talk about. The world, for the most part, doesn't want to spend time here.
Most would prefer to ignore the darkness, focus exclusively on the light, the happy, the positive. Because brighter days are better copy, and positivity feels better to focus groups.
Most would prefer to ignore the darkness, focus exclusively on the light, the happy, the positive. Brighter days are better copy. Positivity focuses groups better.
In the darkness lurks another silent victim of terminal illness—financial stability, a topic that was practically off-limits until a few years ago.
People typically don't talk about their finances, especially when they're sick.
It's only when a terminal illness rips a hole in their life that most people scream for help, too often through heartbreaking social media posts and desperate GoFundMe's, shaking a digital cup on a virtual street corner and racing against the disconnect notice, the eviction, the repossession, the cancelation, that will mark the implosion of their world.
But according to Fast Company, 83% of GoFundMe's for heathcare emergencies never meet their goal.
There has to be a better way to help those who've been given the worst news of the lives.
But then.
This is the point in the story when everything changes. When the hero's disordered world bends back toward good.
It's usually when the hero uses everything he or she knows, every reward earned in battle, every lesson learned from failure, and fashions all of it into whatever passes for sword and shield, to stand on their own two feet and swing away at the villain who tried to kill them.
We've experienced those moments on stages and screens and pages.
The rebels defeat the Empire.
Luke Skywalker redeems his dad.
Daniel crane kicks the bully.
The Avengers assemble. Thanos crumbles.
Batman rises. The Joker falls. The shark sinks.
Neo becomes the One. Frodo destroys the ring.
T'Challa saves Wakanda.
The gladiator saves Rome.
Harry vanquishes Voldemort.
Many of us know these moments, revere them, maybe even are secretly re-living them right now. And that's good.
That's what stories do—bind us together in shared wonder, a common world where we can glimpse the victorious and transcendent. That triumph, the final chapter of all great stories, is built on two more words:
Until finally.
Until finally every hero brings prosperity to the people she loves, saves the day for the family he cherishes, finds love, defeats hate, sows peace, gives and sustains faith and hope once more.
Every great story ever told is built on this same structure: once upon a time, one day, but then, until finally.
Our great story, the story of the TriUnity Foundation, is just beginning. But TriUnity is not the hero.
We are the helpers, the ones who come alongside the hero, binding up their wounds and helping them stand again.
Every hero needs a helper, a guide, an advocate. That is our role and honor. But ours is a supporting role at best. The heroes of our story will always be who we help:
Cameron and Brenda, Becky and Chad, Ella Mae, Darren, Shelley, Diane, Michelle, Sandi, Dawn, John, Scott.
Those who were brave and humble enough to ask for help in the darkest moments of their lives so that they could find their way back to the light. They are the center and soul of our mission, the best work we will ever do.
We are here tonight to tell a great story, one where we can help as many heroes as possible.
Which means we need to know who the villain really is.
It's easy to reduce the villain to terminal cancer and other life-threatening illnesses. They are our opponents and adversaries, to be sure, but there is a far stronger force against which we will labor and toil, a far more dangerous and persistent enemy:
Apathy.
Apathy toward our mission. Apathy toward our members. Toward their plight. Toward their struggle. Toward their humanity. Toward their pain.
Apathy will convince us that we can't help everyone, so why try.
Apathy will lie and say that this gathering can't possibly change the world, so why try.
Apathy will whisper that we will never raise enough, so why try.
Apathy is shadow and doubt, lies and distractions, bad stories that mimic truth when strength fails and hearts falter.
Apathy is powerful, seductive, easy.
It is not, however, invincible. It is defeated by two words.
But then.
But then, there is light.
But then, there is hope, healing, strength.
There is TriUnity.
There is us.
Where once there was but a happy few have now been joined by more, and more still who will taste and see what we're trying to do, who will follow and believe and light the way for even more.
Our great story is waiting. It will be filled with heroes and helpers, celebrations of lives saved, burdens lifted, legacies preserved.
It will also be bound and bordered by risks and surprises, twists and turns, healing and heartbreak.
That's because great stories aren't safe.
They shove us beyond the rut of convenience, the grip of certainty, the trap of comfort. They demand nothing less than our best. That is the price of our purpose. And in that struggle lies the essence of great stories and great lives.
The tension between what is and what must be is what pulls us one step, one dollar, one hero further.
Not everyone is built for that mission, that journey, that call. But we are.
Tonight, we remember what binds us together, and who moves us forward. Tonight, we marvel at how far we've come.
But then, let us plan and prepare for where we've still to go and the countless more who need our help.
Let us not rest until every hero finds hope, every life finds healing, every family finds strength.
Until finally, we can rejoice in the great and good we did together with gratitude and love, always and in all ways, for and with and through each other…
Once upon a time.
