DM Diagnosis: Details, Details, Details

Small details matter in direct mail — and, down to the tiniest of them, this Boys Town Christmas appeal gets it right. On the outer envelope, the meter includes a personalized component. A graphic similar to the nonprofit’s logo with “Boys Town, Nebraska” wrapping around it in a circle alongside a series of parallel squiggle marks makes the postage look like a friendly, old meter mark — unlike current ones.

A second window on the back reveals the 2009 Boys Town Seals for Christmas enclosed for me, a relatively inexpensive premium incentive to get the envelope opened. Inside, in addition to the seals, are a one-sheet, two-page letter; a Christmas card for me to sign and return for the kids at Boys Town; a reply with gift certificates that perf off the bottom; and a BRE.

Even the BRE has small details to its credit. It’s printed with a security screen inside, a comfort for donors who prefer to send cash gifts — and since the gift certificates attached to the reply are each for $20, my guess is that cash gifts are not uncommon for this appeal, at least for the segment of the file I’m in.

I’m also impressed with a note on the back, “If I have made any mistakes in your name, please help me by making the correction and returning this to Boys Town. Thanks,” with Father Stephen Boes’ signature. Not, “Help us update our records,” but, “Help me.” A subtle, small touch that reinforces the package’s one-to-one communication style.

Just the right words and little extras
The letter is fabulous. While I’m not crazy about the font and the untabbed paragraphs because I believe they detract from readability, the copy itself is warm, conversational and, at moments, ovation-worthy. The majority of Page 1 tells Paul’s story — how he’d been living on the streets in South Central Los Angeles but this Christmas he’ll be surrounded by his “new family” at Boys Town.

Page 2 is mostly all about me, the donor, and you can never go wrong with that. But the mention of the gift enclosed for me wonderfully and unexpectedly ups the ante: “In appreciation of your support, I’m enclosing our Christmas seals, which have been sent to our loyal supporters since Father Flanagan’s day. Proudly place them on your holiday cards, and if you need more, just ask. We’ll be happy to send them to you.”

Yeah! Boys Town didn’t get mired up in angst and hand-wringing about how to fulfill donor requests for more seals that could have killed that nice offer. My guess is few donors will ask for more. It’s the gesture that counts. And for those donors who do want more, what a great way to identify people on your file who really love you (and who might, say, one day make bequests).

“I’m also enclosing a Christmas card for you to send back to our kids.” I love that this letter freely calls the people Boys Town helps “kids” — not “children” (ugh) or “youth” (double ugh), but what a donor would likely call them: kids.

And without being at all preachy, the letter has a nice way of gently weaving in a bit of religious copy appropriate for an explicitly Christmas (not holiday) appeal. “This is the first time Paul will say grace before a Christmas meal,” for example. Or the beautiful postscript: “P.S. During this season of giving, Boys Town remembers that God gave us his Son, the greatest of gifts, on the very first Christmas. Thank you for helping Boys Town to be the arms He uses to embrace those lost and forgotten children with His warm, healing love.”

More small touches and little details
The seals are printed on matte stock with metallic silver ink that gives them shimmer and shine without the added expense of foil, a very nice small touch.

On the back of the seals and on both the front and back of the reply, Boys Town stresses its strong financial stewardship, including the use of the BBB Accredited Charity and Charity Navigator Four Star Charity logos — something more and more nonprofits are doing. However, the back of the Boys Town reply goes even further with a text box about its stewardship that promises, “All mail contributions (every dollar you send) will be spent on the care and treatment of our youth. This is possible because all solicitation and fund-raising costs are paid out of the Father Flanagan’s Fund for Needy Children ….” Any organization that can make this claim should, but you can tell the vetting of this copy was fierce. No more “kids;” it’s now “youth.”

I’d take that first sentence about “every dollar you send,” replace “youth” with “kids” and get it onto the front of the reply with standout placement — in this case, where Boys Town has a callout about making a gift by credit card that’s in the middle of wide-open white space. Even if the lawyers and auditors insist on an asterisk directing readers to the full legalese statement about stewardship on the back, this promise deserves high prominence because donors love to hear it.

Finally, my last favorite little detail in this package is on the back of the Christmas card I’m to sign and return. It’s a quote from a Boys Town kid: “The best Christmas I ever had was here at Boys Town last year. In staying here, I learned the true meaning of Christmas. I learned that presents are nice, but love is better. I really don’t care about material things. Family to me is much more important. What a gift.”

It reinforces the letter’s premise — that family is a gift a lot of kids don’t have, but a gift I can give them this Christmas so Boys Town can “show Paul what a family is all about.”

Tied together, all these little details are what my good friend and mentor, Jerry Huntsinger, calls “package gestalt,” when the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Gotta love it when it all comes together as well as it does in this Boys Town effort.

Kimberly Seville is a creative strategist and freelance copywriter. Reach her at kimberlyseville@yahoo.com.