Look at this photo carefully. Which kid stands out? Leaps out, if you will? There is a Ravan being burnt right in front of this little line-up (the symbol of evil, for those not familiar with Indian mythology. He gets burnt every year at Dusshera and good once again triumphs over evil.).

Which kid seems the most focused on what is happening?

Right. The boy with the camera. Just for the context, here’s what he was photographing:

And here is the man responsible for its construction and about to be the first person to set it on fire:

Shyam Singh is an artist. Every year, his Ravan is bigger and more amazing than the year before. He puts his heart and soul into its creation and each year he sees his month-long effort go up in flames and finish in embers and ash only a few minutes later:

It’s no small thing to construct a Ravan. This year, ours was over 20 feet high. Its frame was constructed of bamboo, stuffed with firecrackers and then papered over with colorful sheets to resemble a portly, successful-looking body and an ominous and evil-looking face. The children all love helping to bring it to life and every year, each one adds her/his special touch.

But this year, for the first time, Shyam Singh made it a point to come and tell me about the contributions of one boy. All the kids were wonderful, he said (he always says that). But Shambhu was special. Homework or not, exams or not, rain or shine: he was there. “As craftsmen,” Shyam Singh told me, “we are always looking for that child who will out-do us. This boy has that potential. He took on the Ravan project as if it were his own. He built it with the pride of a craftsman.”

So let me tell you about Shambhu.

But not about how he helped build the Ravan.

I want to tell you about how he helped with our fund raising campaign. Because just as Shyam Singh is looking for his own replacement, I am looking for mine.

He’s ten years old, but after his first day out on the streets – asking shopkeepers for donations in kind, and homeowners for cash – he already had the wisdom of a seasoned veteran.

No shop was too small for him. He went into each and every one and to each shopkeeper uncle, he repeated his earnest and heartfelt story of what Latika Vihar meant to him and how important it was to support it. And after going through the entire market, he came to his conclusion:

“Didi,” he told Neha. “The smaller the shop, the more they give.”

Taking that same logic to the individual donor market, he insisted that the team not only target the big house owners of Vasant Vihar but also the servants’ quarters. And wouldn’t you know? In one enormously wealthy house, the owner gave Rs 20.

The woman in the servants’ quarter? 50.

So my money is on Shambhu. He’s already understood that in fundraising as in so much else it’s not the size of the purse but the size of the heart that counts.

And don’t forget the other thing about Shambhu, the trait that really sets a fundraiser apart: eyes on the prize. Look at that photo at the top of this post again. All the other kids are distracted, restless. Only Shambhu is truly focused on what’s happening in front of his eyes. In fundraising as in life, it’s steady, single-minded purpose that tips the balance, that allows people to make a difference in this world. Eyes on the prize.