I’m notoriously bad at writing thank-you notes.
Just last year, while preparing for our family’s fifth move, I threw away a stack of custom photo-printed thank-you cards I had never sent to the people who celebrated my daughter’s baby shower.
She’s ten.
*Shock. Awe. Judgement.*
And yet, working in philanthropy, I’ve heard—and given—this advice so many times: Write the note. Make it personal. Handwrite it on your campaign stationery!
*The unmitigated gall.*
I believe in that advice.
And I also know how easily a meaningful gesture quickly becomes another unfinished task. Even after years of conversations, careful planning, and growing trust have culminated in a gift, someone still has to sit down and find the words.
So how do I coach myself into that moment? It’s a privilege, this burden blessed moment. I practice gratitude myself, and then think of the person on the other end.
This series of questions helps:
What did they tell me mattered to them?
Before I think about what to write, I think about what I heard.
What made them lean forward in a conversation? What experience brought them to this mission? What future did they imagine, and why did they choose to help make it possible?
Those questions give me somewhere to begin. They also give me a reason to pause and appreciate the person whose decision we’re acknowledging.
The donor deserves to feel that their choice mattered. I need to remember that it did, too.
There’s a gift in that moment for both of us.
How will they know I listened?
A handwritten note can be lovely.
But be specific! Recall something they shared, name a choice they made, or connect their support to the part of the mission they care about most. Give them a detail that belongs in their note because it belongs to their story:
“You mentioned that a scholarship changed what was possible for your family. I’ve been thinking about that as we welcome this year’s students.”
That acknowledgment carries something a polished, interchangeable thank-you cannot: evidence that we paid attention.
Research offers a useful parallel. In a study of gratitude between romantic partners, Sara Algoe and her colleagues found that expressions praising the other person’s actions were associated with the recipient perceiving the speaker as more understanding, validating, and caring. The context was personal relationships, but it raises a valuable question for our work: Does our gratitude help someone feel understood?
For one donor, that might mean a personal call. For another, a quiet note and a substantive update. Public recognition may delight one philanthropist and make another deeply uncomfortable.
We learn the difference by asking, remembering, and acting accordingly. Sincerity becomes easier to trust when the gesture fits the person.
What did their generosity make possible?
Philanthropy funds futures.
We spend considerable time articulating what could be: a discovery, an opportunity, a community where something works better than it does today. When someone helps fund that future, our gratitude should continue as the work unfolds.
We have a responsibility to report back. Here is what happened. Here is what we learned. Here is where progress has been slower than we hoped. Here is what your support helped make possible.
Honesty belongs in those updates, including when the story is unfinished. So does shared credit. Donors, staff, volunteers, and the people closest to the mission each contribute something essential.
Gratitude changes how we tell that story. We become more attentive to the people behind an accomplishment and more specific about what they contributed. An impact report can then become a meaningful expression of appreciation, grounded in what actually happened.
What happens when we practice this with each other?
During a particularly stressful time, a coworker gave me a beautiful box of chocolates.
I still think about that gesture because of the listening behind it.
They had paid attention to what I was carrying and chosen a thoughtful way to care for me. I felt seen.
That experience shapes how I think about gratitude as a core value at work. It asks us to notice each other closely enough that our appreciation means something to the person receiving it.
Sometimes that means recognizing the colleague who caught a problem early or telling someone how their preparation helped you walk into a difficult meeting with confidence. Sometimes it means a box of chocolates arriving when you could really use a little kindness.
Being on the receiving end reminds me to pay closer attention, too. Who has made my week easier? Whose effort have I benefited from without acknowledging it? What would help that person feel appreciated?
That is one way gratitude builds upon itself. Someone’s care stays with us and shapes how we care for the next person.
When we practice that attention with our colleagues, we have something real to draw on in our relationships with donors. We know what it feels like to be remembered. We understand why a thoughtful acknowledgment matters. And we have a better chance of offering one ourselves.
What do I hope they carry away?
I still believe we should write the note. Preferably before the child turns ten.
But when I’m struggling to begin, remembering the person helps me find the words. It reminds me why this moment deserves my attention and why our gratitude needs to continue beyond it.
I hope the person receiving it feels recognized. I hope they see that we remembered what mattered to them and took seriously the trust they placed in us.
And I hope that, somewhere along the way, they find themselves thinking: “Thank you for inviting me to be a part.”
When the words won’t come
Before you pick up your pen, picture the person receiving the note. Then start with four prompts:
- Name what you’re thanking them for. “Thank you for…”
- Remember what matters to them. “You shared…” or “I remember…”
- Connect their support to the work. “Your support helped…” or “Your gift will support…”
- Close with personal appreciation. “I’m grateful for…”
Before you send, ask: Is it specific? Is it true? Does it fit this person? Does it sound like me?
A few honest sentences are enough.
Keep these prompts within reach or download “When the Words Won’t Come,” a printable guide for your next thank-you note.
