The snow was falling. The schools were over earlier than usual, but much to my surprise my appointment wasn’t canceled. And so I went, feeling especially heroic. Snow or no snow, I’d be on time for my scheduled donation at the local blood center.

When I got there, I discovered four more “hero-types” were already there, with machines quietly collecting their lifesaving gifts. Seeing them made me believe that while I was proud to be there, I wasn’t a hero. And any silly heroic thoughts quickly disappeared as I lay back in my own donor chair and began my donation. I was ready to make a difference in the life of someone I’ d never meet.

My wife Karen is a donor, too. She’s been on the bone marrow (骨髓) list for fifteen years, ever since she signed up to provide bone marrow to a child. That little girl died before Karen’s bone marrow could help her, but Karen was called again recently as it turned out she might be a match for someone else. The caller asked Karen if she’d still be willing to become a bone marrow donor. “Yes,” she said and then immediately began answering questions in preparation for the pages of paperwork to follow. It was a race against time. I wish I could say this race was won, but again it wasn’t.

Last week Karen gave blood and next week I’ll make my usual donation. I’ll clear an afternoon from my schedule and call for an appointment. Whatever blood product they need whole, I’ll gladly give. I don’t know whose life my donation may affect, but it really doesn’t matter. And sadly, while so few among us actually take the time to donate, Karen and I always will.

Hita Gupta used to volunteer at a nursing home, trying to brighten the days of the residents. Now she spreads sunshine far and wide.

As a 15-year-old sophomore at Conestoga High School, Hita has created a nonprofit organization that specializes in bringing cheer to socially isolated seniors. Her Brighten A Day foundation started out by sending goodie bags with an adult coloring book, a large-print puzzle book and crayons to Philadelphia-area nursing homes and sending letters with uplifting messages to facilities in neighboring states.

Hita has since widened the scope of her project, which is backed by donations through a GoFundMe page as well as the work of an expanding army of volunteers. The project has reached as far as Hawaii and now includes video messages as well as the delivery of smart devices to help residents communicate with loved ones. “We’ve been able to reach so many seniors—who are among the loneliest people in our society-and let them know they are not alone,” Hita said.

Hita’s project has lifted spirits at the Genesis Wayne Center, according to Kaylee Nichols，the facility’s director. “It’s impressive to see a high school student take that kind of initiative,” Nichols said. “That generation, they normally don’t think about seniors.”

Hita was motivated to take action when officials at the nursing home where she used to volunteer said that she couldn’t visit anymore because of the coronavirus outbreak. It made her determined to do something else to try to help. She started the GoFundMe page, expanded the foundation’s website and began organizing volunteers from around the country to write cards or make videos for nursing home residents, who have been the most severely impacted by COVID-19.Hita also expanded her project to include the acquisition and distribution of smart devices to nursing homes and long-term care facilities.

“I’m very proud that Hita is able to bring smiles to so many seniors,” her mother, Swait, wrote in an email. Hita said her foundation’s name was a reflection of her determination to chase away doubt and depression for folks in need. “I thought of the sun,” Gupta said. “I thought of people in the dark, lonely, and how much I wanted to brighten their days and bring joy to them.”

A Wisconsin mom makes mini--me toys as unique as the children who embrace them.

As a social worker using play therapy in the 1990s to help children through their cancer treatment, Amy Jandrisevits wished she could comfort her patients with dolls that bore their all-too-familiar hair loss and surgery scars. ''I would clear up Goodwill for bald Cabbage Patch Kids because that was the closest thing I could find. ''she says. ''I thought these kids need something that looks like they do. ''The idea stuck with Jandrisevits after she left social work in 2001 to start a family. Then in 2015, a mom whose daughter lost a leg to amputation(截肢)asked Jandrisevits, handy with a sewing machine, if she could craft a mini-me doll for the girl.

After Jandrisevits posted a photo of the legless doll on Facebook, orders poured in for likeness with everything from albinism(白化病)to birthmarks. ''Differences make kids feel isolated and judged, '' she says, ''with a doll, a child sees I am not the only one who looks this way...and beautiful enough to be a doll. '' Jandrisevits, 46, has since crafted nearly 400 custom dolls with her New Berlin, Wis, dining room table, with donors often covering the $ 100 cost through Jandrisevits' nonprofit A Doll Like Me. The mom of three insisted on making each doll herself with help from her mother and a friend.

For Keagan Cameron, 2, whose rare skin condition has him covered in birthmarks, Jandrisevits matched the doll's spot exactly. ''That was the most amazing thing, '' says Keagan's mom, Joy.

Brian Grassi of Coventry, R. I., says she wept like a baby when a doll came in the mail for his daughter Emma, born three months later in October without her lower left arm. ''Seeing my daughter with her doll, it makes me think about her future, not her limitations. ''