Hayley Hicks decided earlier this year to put her mostly self-taught sewing skills to good use by creating and selling protective face masks.
It wasn’t intended as a money-making project by the 2003 Litchfield High School graduate, but rather a charitable effort. Even Hicks had no idea just how charitable the project would become.
By the time she was done — and with a big assist from family, friends and fellow LHS graduates — Hicks was able to donate $2,500 to the Litchfield Area Mentorship Program.
“I’m proud of the work I put in, but more proud of everyone else coming together to make sure this organization can continue to thrive,” Hicks said last week. “Sure, I made the masks … but this was all done through the generosity of the people of Litchfield, which was really pretty cool.”
And pretty welcomed.
“It’s awesome,” Amie Bergquist, donor development coordinator for LAMP, said of Hicks’ donation. “It was unbelievable when she presented that (check).”
Like many charitable efforts, this one started with a small scale idea.
With the coronavirus pandemic spreading across the country, Hicks got the same idea many have — she could turn her sewing skills into something useful.
“The whole idea was kind of two-fold,” she said. “When the whole pandemic started, you kind of feel, ‘what can I do?’ I’m fortunate, I have remained employed, but (the pandemic) impacted a lot of people in a lot of different walks of life. And I wanted to do something.
“I’ve sewed things for a lot of years,” Hicks continued. “And masks are kind of the accessory of the year, if you will, so I thought I might as well sew some and charge $5, and then give whatever I got to some group.”
Hicks wasn’t sure at the time what group would receive the fruits of her labor, but she was pretty sure she wanted it to be an organization in her hometown.
The daughter of Lyle and Joann Hicks of Litchfield, she now lives in Minneapolis, where she works at Target Corp. headquarters in downtown. Like many, her work situation changed with the pandemic’s arrival, when most of the Target corporate team was told they would begin working remotely.
Hicks saw the change as a personal and professional opportunity. She moved back to her parents’ home, where she could spend more time with family, including brothers and sisters-in-law and a couple of nieces.
“It’s been good, under the circumstances,” Hicks said. “It’s been great to spend time with my family. While this pandemic, quarantine, shutdown has been pretty crappy for a lot of reasons, I think there’s been a lot of good, too.”
Along with more family time, Hicks capitalized professionally. Rather than work from home, where she worried about productivity, she moved into a workspace at her father’s company, Hicks Bus Line & Trucking, where she would be surrounded by others at work, even if they weren’t fellow Target team members.
“(Having) coworkers, a normal workspace, it keeps the productivity levels a little higher, I think,” Hicks said.
And while her professional productivity was maintained, her personal sewing project, which began in early May, was inspired, as well.
“I thought I would make 20 masks and that would be it,” Hicks said, but the orders for her handiwork poured in and, “I made 145 masks, which at $5 a pop really adds up.”
As she sewed, she thought about where the funds would go. Though LAMP didn’t even exist when she was going to school in Litchfield, Hicks knew of it, and saw it as a worthy recipient.
“LAMP was always in the back of my mind,” “I remember hearing about it and thought what a cool program it was.”
It also was a program in need.
With its operating funds coming exclusively from grants and donations, LAMP’s funding took a big hit when pandemic safety protocols shut down large group gatherings. One of the organization’s largest fundraisers of the year — a ham bingo event traditionally held the week before Easter — was canceled, along with a few other minor fundraisers.
“If I remember correctly, we have missed out on, ballpark, of over $7,000 in fundraising that we were counting on,” LAMP’s Bergquist said. “That’s huge to a small program like ours.”
LAMP matches adult mentors with youth between the ages of 5 and 17, who have common interests and hobbies. The mentor and youth get together for activities on their own, and LAMP plans monthly group outings, with special quarterly outings for things like tubing at Powder Ridge.
“We just try to focus on building the relationships with mentors and the kids,” Bergquist said. “When we all get together, it’s so much fun.”
It was the kind of program that Hicks wanted to support.
By mid-June, her mask-sewing project had generated $700, and she called Bergquist with news. She planned to write a check, but she’d left her checkbook at home in Minneapolis. So they made plans to meet later.
Meanwhile, Hicks put her mask-making and donation story out on social media.
“…(O)n behalf of everyone who ordered masks and made donations, I plan to write a check for at least $700 to this wonderful Litchfield area organization,” her Facebook post read. “If I’m honest, I’d like to write it for more! Anyone in to help make this an even bigger donation?! Think we can make it to $1000? I do!”
The response was overwhelming.
In just a week, with people sending $5, $10 and $20 donations — along with a few $50 or more — Hicks’ Venmo account had grown to nearly $2,500. She rounded it up, and planned to meet Bergquist and LAMP Program Coordinator Jenna Haynie.
“That just about knocked me out of my chair,” Bergquist said when she heard the total. “That was unbelievable when she presented that. It just gives you goosebumps. We would have been excited if it was $1,000, that was her goal.”
Hicks said it was gratifying to see the looks on the LAMP staff’s faces, but the response from people who sent in donations was most touching.
“It was really cool seeing people wanting to support this organization in town,” she said. “The majority of donations that came in came from people I’ve met in my life, who are from Litchfield or somehow connected to the town. It was very heartwarming to see the support coming in.”
For Bergquist, it was a reminder that, even in tough times, “there’s good people out there, who support good programs.”






