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Love

Not all humanitarians are well-known. Some are everyday people performing extraordinary acts of love and kindness, like Carol Donald, who served as a foster parent to 100 children with medical needs in Northern California starting in 1965. Carol Donald was born with a passion for babies and raising children. Simply stated, it's her life’s calling. One of five daughters born in Northern California, Donald received her two-year Home Economics certificate in 1942. That same year she married her husband, Richard. They had a son, Edward, and six years later a daughter, Kathy. As her own children grew up, the doors opened on Donald's dream in 1965, when she attended her daughter's confirmation class and saw two pregnant 14-year-old girls. She wondered, "What happens to those babies?" That night she prayed, and the next morning she saw a newspaper ad for foster parent training. With her husband retired from the Air Force and her children in high school, the timing was perfect. Donald—ready to accept her mission—answered the ad and forever changed the face of foster parenting. The challenges of foster parenting in the 1960s were daunting. For a young mother, being unwed and pregnant was socially unacceptable. For the child and foster and biological parent, the transition from foster to adoptive parents was, as Donald puts it, "a death." Social services agencies would take a child from the foster home and send him or her to adoptive parents without notice. Seeing the children's trauma, Donald became an integral part in developing a "partnership"—arranging meetings between foster and adoptive parents, and easing the transition. The foster children called her Grandma, and Donald reassured the children, telling them, "You're going to your new Mommy and Daddy." Many of the infants Donald fostered suffered from fetal alcoholism or were methadone-addicted. When these babies experienced terrible seizures, Donald would rock them on her chest until the seizures subsided—sometimes for 24 hours—convinced that the babies could sense her love for them. The passing of her husband in 1985, five days before his 65th birthday, didn't alter Donald's passion for raising children or her determination to give them a fighting chance. She continued to volunteer as a foster parent without her husband at her side for the next 23 years. At age 85, Donald retired due to a fall where she broke her femur. As always, her primary concern was the children and a worry that she might fall and injure a child. The Jefferson Award, The Juvenile Justice Award and the Concord Human Relations Commission Lifetime Achievement Award are merely a few of the plaques that decorate her wall, gifts of gratitude from her community. Her foster children stay in touch, attending an annual reunion where they call each other “cousins,” and she feels blessed. "It's a wonderful life I live, and if I had to live my life over I wouldn't do it one bit differently," she says. Donald's devotion to so many children ignited a love that lights their lives and will be felt for generations. For the rest of us, she demonstrates that it's possible to make a difference in the world, transforming the most ordinary experiences with the power of love.

Motivation

When 45-year-old Randy Pausch was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, he chose to focus on living rather than dying. As a computer science professor at Carnegie Mellon University, Pausch was asked to deliver a “last lecture.” This well-known campus tradition allowed professors to share worldly wisdom with students as if, hypothetically, they were dying and had one last lecture to give. The only difference in Pausch’s case is that Pausch really was dying, a fact that only motivated him more. He delivered his last lecture, “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams,” on Sept.18, 2007, to a packed McConomy Auditorium. Pausch began by sharing several of his boyhood dreams, some which he had achieved and others he hadn’t. He described the importance of having dreams and how anyone can still learn a lot by reaching for those dreams, even if they don’t always succeed. He shared the values, learned through experience, which he hoped to pass on to others: integrity, honesty, character, hard work, laughter and gratitude. Pausch’s last lecture received a great deal of praise and attention. It became a viral YouTube hit, and in October 2007, he presented an abridged version on “The Oprah Winfrey Show.” He turned the lecture into a book by the same name, which quickly became a best-seller. Readers were deeply moved by the book’s portrayal of Pausch’s lifelong philosophy and the way it revealed the ultimate source of his motivation—his three young children. Randy Pausch passed away July 25, 2008, but his voice lives on in the recorded lecture and his book. He continues to motivate us all by encouraging us to never give up on our childhood dreams—a source of inspiration that can never run dry.

Stories (8)

Let Gratitude Move You to Action

Our modern culture tends to focus on past regrets and future uncertainty. It is the present where we need to focus, on who we are and what we can be. Something we could learn from the Ojibwe tribe in the mid-Northern states and Ontario, Canada. For the Ojibwe, names are less about what people call you and more for who you are. The name is a spiritual guide to lead through troubled times. The baby is brought before the name giver and a name is bestowed, usually based on a dream after a long fast. The ritual creates a time to be grateful for ancestors and a future of promise. A teenage boy who had grown close to an Ojibwe tribe was given a name in gratitude for his kindness to them: “Blue Between The Clouds.” When he asked what it meant he was told that even as the storm clouds gathered there was always a little bit of blue sky visible. “That is you, gratitude.”

What a difference it would make if each of us carried a name reminding us that we are Gratitude. Some cultures just better understand what a force gratitude can be---when it is given and when it is received.

In the midst of troubled times, we can still find gratitude. We can still express it in some way no matter our name. In June of 2020, a few months into the pandemic when the hospitalizations in New York City were overwhelming healthcare workers, a group of nurses flew in from the West Coast to lend a hand. One of the young nurses was assigned a mother of six children. She was on a ventilator, quarantined from her husband, and terrified. Carly, the young nurse decided to cheer her up by bringing a group of nurses together to sing “My Girl.” With a tube in her throat and needles in her arm, all the young mother could do was cry...and raise a few fingers to say thank you. There were tears all around, nurses who were grateful they could help and comfort, and a mother who was grateful they were there. At that moment, a little blue sky was visible between the clouds. With a simple hand gesture, the mother expressed her gratitude. “That little thank you changed me forever,” Carly says. “I went because I wanted to make a difference I came home grateful for what I learned.”
Gratitude moves us to be kinder. A widow who lost her husband in the midst of the pandemic felt alone. Her neighbors, grateful for over 50 years of friendship expressed their gratitude by delivering a box of fresh produce to her house every Monday during lockdown. It’s our gratitude for what we have and who has loved us that becomes the force to create the chain of good acts that bind us all together.

In the early morning quiet, when so many of us are awakened by the uncertainty of the coming day, we can find peace by mentally listing the things we are grateful for. The angst dissipates and we reach a new place in our life that we accept and appreciate. What’s next is to share. Send a random thank you note, make a call. Look around. There is always someone to thank. By doing so, we become something new; we are that blue between the clouds that makes all the difference in someone’s life.

Gratitude... PassItOn.com®

The Curse of Texting and Driving.

Coming of age is that time in each of our lives when we begin to see the possibilities. The world opens up in ways that matures our vision, gives us a sense of responsibility and gratitude. Connor Thomson had just started college and loved being at that phase in his life where he could eat all the pizza he wanted, yet engage in adult conversations with his parents about the responsibility to make life better for others. Connor’s optimism was contagious. There was so much he could do, so much he could become.

But it all ended one night when Connor was distracted while driving in a Colorado canyon. A young man, who emanated so much light, suddenly went dark.

Connor’s father, David, took it particularly hard. A father sees more than his own traits in his son; he sees greater possibilities than he achieved. Taking that hope away left David feeling adrift. But Connor’s optimism was one of those traits passed on to him by his father. So David got to work.

First, he established the Honor Connor Scholarship Fund to reward students who served in the community. Next, he went to work creating a research-based curriculum that educates University of Colorado Boulder students and their families about the dangers of texting and driving. It includes a very simple three-part pledge: to not text or use social media while driving, speak out if riding with a driver who is distracted and encourage friends and family to drive phone-free.

David now collaborates with lecturers at various colleges and high schools, ensuring young minds understand how statistically at risk they are when they text and drive. He’s become a passionate advocate for preparing young people to drive safely and not impulsively reach for their phones while they’re at the wheel. “I just don’t want other parents to go through what I did when I lost Connor,” says David. “It’s just so preventable.”

While every constructive endeavor reminds David of the loss he suffered, he is encouraged knowing that more young people with so much to offer the world will be around to do good. “I get to be a part of what Connor would have done,” says David. “And that is a small consolation.”

Don’t Drive Distracted... PassItOn.com®

Going the Distance.

Dillon Shije is soft-spoken and respectful in his conversations. He brushes off compliments on his college success with shy gratitude and moves deftly to give credit to tribal elders.

Dillon grew up on the Zia Pueblo Indian Reservation in New Mexico. He was the top Native American runner in the U.S. during his final two years of high school. He ran his way to Division 1 National Champion as a University of Colorado - Boulder student, his running life was featured in an article in the New York Times, and he was the subject of a documentary that highlights his senior year training on the dusty reservation roads.

Dillon runs like the classic long-distance athlete: lithe, rhythmic, flowing effortlessly across the terrain. His Native American upbringing teaches him to be at peace with himself, yet inside he feels the pull of competition.

“I don’t run to beat someone else,” he says. “I run to compete with myself, to see how fast I can become.”

When he was a young boy, the Tribal Elders told Dillon that he must become a leader — that he must focus on his studies, leave the reservation and go to college, grow and come back to teach others. It is the hero’s story: The boy leaves to take on the challenges of a wider world and returns with greater knowledge that blesses his people. And so it was with Dillon. He earned degrees in integrative physiology and history and returned to New Mexico to coach young people and work with Native American communities in the West, teaching both about respecting traditions, understanding ancestral challenges and working to build self-dignity.

Running is central to Dillon’s cultural and religious teachings. It is a spiritual experience that connects his present and future to the past.

“When we understand the traditions of our ancestors, we begin to better understand ourselves,” he shares. There is a focus on being at peace but also uneasy with one’s performance. The push to be more is ever-present. “I teach each of these kids that they are all to be leaders.”

His pride in his heritage is evident. He has put in the miles, one stride at a time, contemplating the future of his people. He brings back to them a gift of experience, and he makes it clear that each generation can go further than the last.

Dillon’s spiritual and physical practices have existed since the beginning of humanity. He runs into the future with a call to return to the traditional ways of respecting yourself, learning from collective history and living for others. As the sun rises in the early morning desert, you’ll see Dillon striding on a distant horizon, his breathing the act of an eternal connection, while a trail of young runners follows him into the future.

Lead... PassItOn.com®

Miracle or Magician?

The Loretto Chapel, in the heart of Santa Fe, New Mexico, is built from warm earthen adobe, with a small nave and, above it, a choir loft. But at the beginning, the two weren’t connected.

Legend has it that when the unfinished chapel needed a staircase to access the choir loft, the nuns offered a novena — nine days of prayer — to St. Joseph, the patron saint of carpenters. After the nine days, a carpenter arrived on a donkey, carrying a toolbox, and set to work.

When the stairs were completed, the stranger vanished without accepting thanks or payment. Some research indicates that a man named Rochas was paid for wood. But not much else is known about the man, except that he was a member of a French secret society of highly skilled craftsmen and artisans called the Compagnons du Devoir, which had existed since the Middle Ages. Many believe him to have been St. Joseph himself.

The staircase is shaped like a helix and is connected only with wooden pegs. The result is one of the most stunning architectural accomplishments in the New World. The staircase floats upward in a spiral as if to Heaven, with no center support, only a delicate curve of treads that seem to defy gravity, adding to the mystery of how one man could accomplish such a feat of artistry.

“One hundred and fifty years ago, it took a very well-trained, seasoned, experienced master craftsman,” says Seattle-based stair design consultant Shawn Christman. “The fact that somebody showed up out of the desert might be a miracle, but he knew exactly what he was doing.”

It is such a beautiful work of art and craftsmanship that stair-builders from around the world visit the site dubbed the Miraculous Staircase.

“We all like to think we create creative stair designs and nice curved staircases, but to think how they did it that long ago and still attain the same quality is breathtaking,” says Greg Chamberlain of stair-builders Star South Inc., of Eatonton, Georgia.

Art and craftsmanship are the human way of expressing gratitude for the world we live in, trying to capture that little bit of the divine in each of us. The decades it takes to perfect a craft are a testament to the human drive to express beauty.

While only a few achieve legendary levels of artistry, each of us can find daily ways to make our world more pleasant to look at: a kind act, a simple smile, an expression of gratitude. While many artists are well known, perhaps the ones who make the most impact on our lives are those who remain anonymous, like the mysterious artisan who arrived in a desert town unannounced and slipped away unheralded.

Create Beauty, Anonymously… PassItOn.com®

Our Local Heroes in Scrubs.

Before the pandemic, most of us took nurses for granted. After all, we only saw them when we were about to experience some kind of pain. They were kind, reassuring, and prepped us for what was about to come. Still, many of us were too self-focused to appreciate them fully.

Then the pandemic hit. Nurses became the frontline defense. There weren’t enough of them. They weren’t trained to handle a pandemic of this proportion — nobody was.

They’d seen plenty of blood before, and offered their share of comfort, but the weight of hospitals overrun with grieving families and the worry for their own families was nearly apocalyptic. Yet they responded. And they are still responding. Meet three of them:

Claudine Bruff-Lopes is a registered nurse (RN) in Brockton, Massachusetts. In the midst of the pandemic, she sent her 8-year-old son to live with her parents while she worked for three months straight, with no days off.

“I worked full-time Monday through Friday. On Friday, I would get off at 5 p.m. and take a nap before picking up an 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift. I would work Saturday and Sunday, then back to my full-time job on Monday,” Claudine explains. “Patients needed me; they needed a compassionate nurse to hold their hands during this crazy time. I prayed for the world … but the world needed me to take care of its sick, too.”

Krystal Burdine is a licensed practical nurse (LPN) in Cincinnati, Ohio. She was drawn to health care after personal tragedies in her family motivated her to be more than a bystander. She lost a sister to cerebral palsy and her mother to a heart attack and watched her diabetic father’s health decline.

“My early life forced me to come up with a solution to help others in any way possible,” Krystal says. “During this pandemic, I am constantly challenged to put my skills to the test. On a daily basis, I nurse severely ill patients at their most vulnerable state. To me, nursing is something deeply personal. It is about making a difference in people’s lives.”

We sometimes forget that during the pandemic, there are other needs as well. Denise Pegram, an LPN in Reading, Pennsylvania, works in a residential care facility. While she was working in the dementia unit, one resident was very difficult to deal with.

“I made it my mission to work with this resident to see if I could somehow make her day and put a smile on her face. I made time to sit down and talk to her.” Denise discovered that this person was really just lonely and misunderstood. And yes, she did eventually smile.

We all need a hero in our lives; someday, it will be a nurse.

Gratitude... PassItOn.com®

Going Deep to Deliver Kindness.

Although Enzo held several free-diving records — his deepest dive without the aid of breathing apparatus was 101 meters — it was the lives of sea creatures that concerned him most. Enzo dedicated his life to educating the world about the link between healthy seas and healthy humans. He often quoted Vangelis: “Until a man learns to respect and speak to the animal world, he can never know his true role on Earth.”

While diving in the Mediterranean with his daughters Rossana and Patrizia, Enzo was in the water preparing to dive. He felt a nudge on his back and turned to see a male dolphin beckoning to him. The dolphin dove, and Enzo followed.

About 12 meters down, Enzo was led to the dolphin’s mate, who had become entangled in a fishing net and would soon drown. Enzo quickly surfaced and returned with his daughters and a couple of diving knives. They freed the dolphin and helped her to the surface. He recalls: “As soon as she was on the surface, after breathing out foam and blood, she gave birth to a dolphin calf under the watchful eyes of her mate.”

Enzo and his daughters marveled at the miracle they had just witnessed. While they were still in the water, the male dolphin circled around and touched its beak to Enzo’s cheek, like a kiss of gratitude.

The world is full of opportunities that lead to miracles if we only follow those nudges. Next door is a neighbor who needs a smile and a conversation, a child who needs a little reassurance, or a young mom who just witnessed her own miracle and would love to share it with you. Or perhaps even one of our wild siblings, ready to share its world.

Be Present... PassItOn.com®

Cross Safely.

Ron had a good life as a sales rep and as a father. When retirement came around and the kids were grown, Ron looked around his community and saw a lot of aimless young boys just wandering the streets after school. So he checked in at the local community center and volunteered to coach a youth team. And another, and another.

As the sports changed with the seasons, Ron picked up new crops of boys, added a few of their parents to help out and taught the same principles: hard work, fair play, discipline and accountability. In his mid-70s, Ron strode up and down the sidelines, the hardwood, the dugout, shouting instructions to his boys and moving them into the best position to be successful.

Mistakes were shrugged off with lighthearted comments: “I think your batting helmet was on backwards for that swing.” And the classic: “Did I tell you to drop the ball?” There would be a bit of laughter, and Ron would always retort with a half-smile: “Don’t drop the ball unless I tell you to.”

The boys learned not to take mistakes too seriously, but to recognize them and work on changing habits. They learned that everybody gets a turn and deserves to be supported. When one quiet boy recovered a fumble for the first time, he was so overcome by his teammates lifting him onto their shoulders that he burst into tears.

Another boy, whose parents had just split up, decided he’d sit on the bench for the game. Every time a player was subbed out, the player sat next to the boy and put an arm around him. It was the kind of family he needed at the moment.

Every new season began the same way, with Ron giving each boy a nickname: Thunder, Superman, Rocket. It was a way of joining the family, of starting fresh, of being part of a group that would stand beside you. For 10 years Ron raised hundreds of boys on the philosophy that they will do great things if you just give them a little encouragement and a lot of practice time.

Ron retired when he had a mini-stroke. He didn’t tell anybody; he just lay low for a year. Then one of his former players spotted him working as a crossing guard. It was something that got him out of bed in the morning, still wanting to keep kids safe. Word spread, and most mornings, former players drove by and honked their horns or bent their jogging routes to go past him and say hello. It wasn’t orchestrated — just one of those things that happens when bonds are strong and memories swell up gratitude in your chest.

Mentoring... PassItOn.com®

A Custom of Respect.

Soccer is a passionate game. It’s one of the few sports where players are free to follow the flow as they play, being less constrained by a game plan and more dependent on their ability to communicate and create opportunities.

It’s also a worldwide sport, and fans are often just as impassioned as the players. At the World Cup, it is country against country. Emotions run high. National pride is on the line. And sportsmanship often gets lost amid the victors’ celebration and the disappointment of the not-so-fortunate. The 2022 World Cup was no different.

The Japanese national team has often seemed like outsiders looking in, as the European and South American teams have dominated world soccer for decades. So when Japan stepped on the field in the first round against powerhouse Germany, there wasn’t a lot of hope for the underdog.

Germany scored first on a penalty kick and fired several near-misses that would convince most fans that the Japanese just couldn’t keep pace with the Germans. But they did. Heroic saves and a relentless attack saw the Japanese team knot the score at one goal apiece. Then, late in the match, a pinpoint pass from midfield set up a two-touch strike, and Japan took the lead. They hung on for a historic win that had the whole world cheering.

With such an improbable and gutsy win, you’d think there would be pandemonium in the stands and in the locker room. Certainly, there were celebrations. But when the cheering died down and the stands were nearly empty, the Japanese team was tidying up the locker room. They swept and mopped the floors, folded towels and left thank-you notes to the host country. In the stadium, Japanese fans stayed behind to collect garbage and clean up the stands. While the win was totally unexpected, the show of respect and gratitude was even more so.

In sports, as in life, wins come and go. Triumphs and tragedies will always be part of our journey. But as the Japanese soccer team demonstrated, no matter the outcome, it is how we treat others that will be remembered most.

Respect... PassItOn.com®