My former boss, Mike Morsberger, gave me this astronaut in honor of the comprehensive campaign we worked on together at the University of Central Florida. The campaign was called IGNITE. The little statue is called Space Girl. He stills call me that, too sometimes.

She showed up with one of Mike’s super gushy notes praising me for the work I had done managing the campaign launch. He said he was thrilled that we’d actually delivered the real live astronaut he wanted and how much he loved the knights on horses greeting the donors. He thought it was a night people would always remember. It was, except it hadn’t happened yet. And that was classic Mike. That and gushy. The gushier the better. Fundraiser with a heart who sets the bar high — really high. And then he thanks the team in advance for jumping over it. It’s not like you have much choice when he’s already thanked you.

He was good at keeping everyone on message, like the license plate on his car that had the campaign’s goal and the countdown clock he installed at the front desk. It reminded us every morning how much time was left until the public launch.

62 days, 4 hours and 11 minutes.

I imagined it talking like Amazon’s Alexa. How’s that event script coming? Did you modify it to include the donor from Curaçao who decided to come? Do you have my astronaut yet? Have you done the video with Governor Bush about the medical school? How are we doing with nanotechnology Can you fit nursing in before athletics?

Tick tock.

Fast forward to last Friday and Mike texted me. I haven’t thought about the event in a while, though Space Girl has been my companion since she arrived. She reminds me to believe in myself, the way Mike believed in everyone. She reminds me that short deadlines are sometimes when you do the best work.

Mike had a new idea and he needed feedback. Did I have some time? I didn’t, but of course I said yes. Not long after, I was back on the phone with this warrior-fundraiser brainstorming a concept that might make life better for many. It was a big idea. They always are with Mike. He wondered if I thought it could work. I did and I remembered why I kept Space Girl.

I also remembered a night when our team delivered UCF’s first big campaign launch and the sense back then that we would go beyond our best simply because of the way we were asked. I think of that dream team to this day, including executive producer Tony Peluso; creative director Kim Sheeter (now at Embry-Riddle), managing producer Christine Rutherford (now at William & Mary), and the advancement communications team, some still at UCF (Stephen, Susan, Pat, Tambrea, Zack). We had the real astronaut, Mark Kelly. There were multiple standing ovations. There were tears. There was joy. Mostly, there was a sense that generosity to a university starts when donors believe in the mission, and staff believe it too, and everyone feels ownership in the outcome whether you are a gift recorder or the parking team on opening night or just a guy named Mike reminding everyone to believe in themselves as much as he did from Day 1.