Modest Needs Profiles In Courageous Generosity

Turning the Tables on Abuse

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Almost 2 decades ago, the terror of domestic violence was an everyday occurrence for Roxanne, a young woman living in New Jersey. And although it has been a long time since she managed to escape that life -- and start a new one, happily married in North Carolina after almost 11 years of suffering -- the experience continues to shape her, in ways that often surprise even Roxanne herself.

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It didn't come as a surprise to Roxanne that this past February, she lost her job of 3 years. She'd been working in the accounts payable department, where the financial challenges her company faced became more and more apparent with every new invoice. Knowing that bad news was coming didn't make it any less devastating to hear, however. She and her husband, who worked at the local prison, had recently purchased a new house. And with her 21-year-old son still living at home, belts were extremely tight. The loss of Roxanne's income was terrifying, and 8 months later, she says they still haven't fully recovered.

Roxanne kicked off her job search optimistic, but she soon ran into 'one brick wall after another.' In her community, jobs were incredibly scarce, and those that were available paid tiny amounts.

Rather than allow the job search to slowly drain her motivation, however, Roxanne decided that she needed to put into the action the advice she'd be giving to her son. While he'd been out of work, she'd been driving him down to the local domestic violence shelter to volunteer his time.

Her rationale?

'Just because you don't have a job doesn't mean that you can't contribute to the community.'

One day, Roxanne stopped into the shelter herself to drop off some books, including an autobiography she'd written in 2007 about her experience with domestic violence, drug addiction, and child molestation. While there, the head of the program asked her to sit down and speak with a few of the girls who'd recently arrived seeking assistance. It didn't take Roxanne more than a few hours to get hooked. She began spending her days attending court hearings, helping these women fill out paperwork for educational grants -- anything to get them back on track.

Over time, as her rejection-filled job search for accounting positions crawled on, Roxanne started wondering if perhaps her newfound volunteer work should become something more permanent. Counseling came naturally to her. And in light of the dim prospects in accounting, why not consider a career change -- one that would not only open up new job opportunities, but also reward her in ways that her accounting career couldn't?

In her research, Roxanne learned that she'd require an Associate's degree in order to attain a job in counseling. It would mean continuing to sacrifice financially for her entire family. But it would be worth it. She applied for a Pell Grant -- the necessary financial support she'd need to undertake this course of study -- and was shocked to learn that she still had $214.97 left on a college loan she'd taken out a decade ago during her accounting coursework.

She'd never been so intimidated by a $200 fee before. Without that money, there would be no Pell Grant, no Associate's degree, and certainly no counseling job.

It wasn't much money. But it was enough to completely derail her plans. Because Roxanne and her husband just didn't have it.

Every day she spent at the shelter for domestic abuse victims gave her more strength to track down that money. She got particularly close with a 17-year old mother of three, named Regina, who was expecting a fourth child at the time. At only 13 years old, Regina had been forced to start supporting her younger siblings when her mother suddenly abandoned the family. The only way she could do that, according to Roxanne, was via prostitution. Four years later, Regina and her young children lived in a trailer with no lights, no education, and no way out. Roxanne made it her mission to help this young woman turn her life around.

Just as Regina had turned a corner and enrolled in school again, tragedy struck. She and her newborn baby died last month during childbirth.

Roxanne felt overwhelmed with sadness as she spoke at Regina's funeral. But, as she explained to me, Regina's progress and desire for a better life gave her the motivation to keep pushing forward like nothing else could have.

'I know what Regina would have told me -- that I'd saved her. And that I needed to go on saving others,' she remarked.

Modest Needs donors must have sensed this, because it took hardly any time at all for them to fund Roxanne's application for $214.97.

Roxanne couldn't believe it when she received the email. She actually broke down in tears.

'From where I am, you just don't see people helping other people very often,' she said. 'This has changed my life. And I'm not going to stop at just counseling. I'm going to study substance abuse, mental illness. I want to help anyone out there who feels afraid and condemned, like I did, and to become that outlet that so many people desperately need.'

Roxanne's mother had always told her that, when you give to others, it comes back to you. In this case at least, I'm extremely proud to tell you that she was right.

In 2 years, Roxanne will have earned the necessary degree to start helping victims of domestic abuse on a full-time basis. And for every donor who gave even a dollar to her application, I hope that Roxanne's mother's adage will ring true for you as well -- returning kindness not only for Roxanne, but also for the hundreds or thousands of people whose lives she'll touch.

A Million Little Bucks

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Here at Modest Needs, we love the mailman. We love the click of the front door that marks his arrival and the sweet, scratchy sound of papers shuffling as he sorts through his bag to pull out each day's delivery. Why? Because even though the vast majority of our donors make their contributions online, a handful -- many dating back to 2002 and 2003 -- prefer to send good, old-fashioned checks. As such, the mailman's morning arrival brings with it correspondence from supporters who've grown to feel like old friends to me over the years.

Melanie, a 52-year-old donor from Ohio, is one of those very special individuals.

For more than 3 years, she has religiously sent check after check, with a note on the bottom saying, simply, 'my favorite charity.' Most of her checks are for $1 each.

I had always wondered what Melanie's story was. I knew that she'd applied and been funded for two Modest Needs grants in years past. And that she represents one of the 65% of funded applicants who return to Modest Needs to become a contributor. Beyond that, I'd gleaned from her previous applications that she lived in a trailer and suffered from a myriad of health problems. But before speaking to her last week, I had no idea the immense sacrifice that this extraordinary donor makes every month in order to send us those precious $1 checks.

Melanie hasn't had an easy life, to put it mildly. She was born with a hereditary, life-threatening heart condition that took the lives of her mother and brother before they'd even reached 40 years of age. She has suffered a heart attack once already, and she lives every day with multiple metal stents lodged in her heart, fearing that another heart attack could strike at any moment. She also has epilepsy.

In light of these very serious medical issues, Melanie hasn't been able to earn a living for almost two decades. She relies on Social Security Disability income -- $674 a month, to be exact -- to survive. And, as she'll tell you, it's not easy. Not even for a woman who carefully plans out every penny.

In 2003, after years of saving and scrimping, Melanie had finally stashed away enough money to purchase her own trailer. And with no close family or friends to rely on, the idea of owning her own home buoyed her spirits like nothing else. But weeks after the sale went through, right before Melanie was scheduled to move in, vandals attacked her trailer. They devastated her bathroom, drilling holes in the tub and pipes. Melanie brought in a contractor to assess the damage, and he quoted her $10,000 to get the trailer back into livable condition again.

She was heartbroken.

With the pipes in such a state, the bathtub was completely unusable. And so, without the extra money to repair her bathroom, Melanie was forced to bathe herself in the kitchen sink.

She'd been raised not to ask for help. You got by on what you had, she explained. Her mother had taught her solid money sense from a very young age, and, to this day, Melanie prides herself on her exceptionally frugal and meticulous bookkeeping. She was well accustomed to hardship, walking miles and miles in the cold to pick up her prescriptions. But when the short-term indignity of bathing in her kitchen sink lasted more than 3 years, it was a situation Melanie just couldn't bear.

'I've always been such a clean person,' she said. 'I had to do something. It was terrible, but I had to do something.'

When Melanie applied for help at Modest Needs, she never expected that kind-hearted strangers would pony up a thousand dollars to pay for the new bathtub and piping. When they did, she felt the need to give back immediately, despite her extremely limited means.

Never mind the fact that Melanie can't afford any personal luxuries on her meager $674/month stipend. This woman, who calculates every nickel she spends, doesn't have enough left over at the holidays to buy herself a single thing. She'd like a blanket or two with the winter coming, but she won't buy them. Instead, she continues to come up with $1 and $2 every month for her fellow Modest Needs applicants.

'When I was looking for help,' she said, 'there was just no one there for me. It's not neighbor helping neighbor anymore. Modest Needs is something that just shocks me -- that people are willing to give to strangers. I see so many people in need around me. I can't just sit around and do nothing.'

And as much as Melanie's generous checks bring a smile to my face every month via that wonderful mail delivery, her contributions have made a significantly larger difference for people like Jenna, the single mother of a 17-year-old girl in desperate need of open-heart surgery.

When Jenna felt completely alone -- worrying day and night about how she'd pay her rent in the face of her daughter's mounting medical bills -- she applied to Modest Needs. Straightaway, Melanie read her application, stepped in, and donated her points to this struggling family.

Weeks later, Jenna's rent was paid, her daughter safely out of surgery, and the two of them were home together during the grueling recovery process. Jenna wrote in her testimonial: 'Your extreme generosity in a time when money is so tight moves me to tears. I believe that the blessings you bestowed upon us will be returned to you tenfold. You are a miracle to us!'

When Melanie saw the note, she was tickled.

'I know what it feels like to have heart problems,' she said. 'The pain, the anguish, the sorrow. I can't imagine dealing with that kind of thing at only 17 years old.'

Melanie also understands the shame of 'not having the things that make you feel human,' as she put it. A warm place to call home. A vehicle to get you back and forth to work. A bathtub.

Years after receiving her last check from Modest Needs, Melanie continues go above and beyond her already-phenomenal $1 checks. She's a zealous spokesperson for our organization, spreading the word to friends and family members, promoting us on her social networking pages, and even signing up for the new Modest Needs credit card we offered -- a testament to her excellent credit. The ultimate pragmatist, she uses the credit card only for the basics, like groceries. But she makes a point to pitch Modest Needs to the cashiers in her local Ohio town every time she uses it.

Melanie's story inspires me on an infinite number of levels. But first and foremost, is she not an absolutely shining example of how anyone, no matter what his/her financial predicament, can do good in this world for people who are suffering? Doesn't her selflessness make you want to go a step further with your own good deeds? I can tell you one thing: she certainly makes me feel like I can give a little more myself.

'Honestly, with these heart problems, I don't know how long I'll live,' Melanie remarked. 'But as long as that is, I'll be giving to Modest Needs. That $1 donation makes me feel like a million bucks.'

Heading Back to School... for a New Future

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Sometimes, it's the most basic language that carries the deepest heartache. Take this one little sentence, from the keyboard of Paige, an applicant in Michigan:

'I am a 28-year-old mother with no future ahead of me.'

I don't know about you, friends, but I find this to be an awfully bleak statement. And as you'll see, it's an incredibly telling sentiment about the paralyzing cycle of living paycheck-to-paycheck -- that unmistakable feeling of being trapped by a low-income existence and completely lacking in opportunities.

When you learn the details of Paige's past -- high-school dropout, two layoffs in her family, six mouths to feed -- you understand why she had every reason in the world to feel powerless against her current set of circumstances. Most people would have kept doing exactly what she'd been doing: putting all of her energy into caring for her children, understandably hesitant to take the kind of leap required for a drastic life change.

But Paige isn't most people. And neither, apparently, are those Modest Needs donors whose contributions transported her from being a hopeless, overworked mom to an academic go-getter in less than a few weeks' time.

Here's her story.

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When Paige's children used to ask if she'd graduated from high school, she lied and said 'yes.' Not because she was embarrassed personally, but because she was so determined for them to have an exemplary role model to look up to. At that point, she said, they didn't. Ten-year-old Louis and 8-year-old Josephine were honor-roll students, which made their mother extremely proud. Paige had always stressed the importance of education, in theory if not by example.

Paige herself had dropped out of high school at the age of 17, when she'd become pregnant. At the time, she couldn't foresee the ramifications of this decision to marry and leave school, and the financial difficulties she would face later in life as a result. She didn't envision working for a decade as a waitress, only to be laid off. She never expected that she'd earn so little that her paycheck wouldn't even cover the cost of childcare.

But that was exactly her predicament earlier this year when she applied for a grant at Modest Needs. She and her children relied solely on her husband Henry's construction wages, which had been cut in half since 2005 to only $12/hour. Living paycheck to paycheck had certainly become more difficult for their family as it grew. Now, with four children under the age of 10, it was virtually impossible.

Can you imagine how difficult it must be to feed that many mouths on $12 an hour?

'We're eating,' Paige said. 'We're not impoverished. But the kids, we can't give them basic things we want to -- like toys or new clothes for school. We're scraping to get by, always.'

A few months ago, Paige decided she'd had enough. Enough of the stress, enough of not having $5 to spare at the end of the month. She started doing research and was thrilled to learn about a government-subsidized program in Michigan called 'No Worker Left Behind' that would cover an associate's college degree for individuals training for a select group of high-demand jobs. Although Paige's primary interests lay in graphic design or real estate, she realized early on that those career paths wouldn't necessarily pay the bills. So she stayed practical. And one of the high-demand professions eligible - ultrasound technology -- piqued her interest. It had a 90% job placement rate.

'This is my shot to get a better job, to take better care of my family,' Paige thought. 'In 2 years, I could be making $29/hour to start as an ultrasound technician!'

Her initiative, resourcefulness, and unwillingness to accept a future of financial instability had gotten her this far. But the window of opportunity for Paige was extremely small. And the cost associated with the first step in the process -- passing her GED exam -- threatened to derail the entire plan before Paige could even get started.

Paige would need to pass her GED test as soon as possible in order to make the end-of-the-year deadline for the 'No Worker Left Behind' program. The exam fee cost only $90, but with money as tight as it was, there was simply no skimping or scrounging that Paige could finagle to successfully save that much money in one month.

And so her Modest Needs application for $90 represented her first, and last, hope for a new future.

When Paige received an email that Modest Needs donors had cut her a check for the GED exam, she actually screamed in delight -- for the $90, yes, but more importantly, for all it would entail. In a word, OPPORTUNITY. All of a sudden, for this woman who'd always felt like a failure, college was within her grasp. A life free from the crippling fear of missing a bill payment. The chance to become a role model for her children.

When her son Louis enters 6th grade this fall, Paige will be heading back to school alongside him. Thanks to Modest Needs donors, she's scheduled to take her GED exam on September 15th and will be applying for her Associate's Degree in Ultrasound Technology shortly thereafter. She has even memorized the date of her first day of college classes: January 10th, 2010.

And as deep a feeling of hopelessness as I sensed in Paige's initial application, it doesn't even compare to the joy that comes across in her thank-you note to donors:

'Words alone can't express enough how deeply thankful I am for the help from Modest Needs. I feel confident in furthering my education knowing that there is light at the end of the tunnel… You have lifted my spirits to a whole new high, and I just want to say God Bless the angels with Modest Needs.'

When Louis next asks his mother, 'Do I have to go to college when I grow up?' you can guess what Paige's response will be. That education is a privilege. That it's not just about knowledge and information, but about the ability to support yourself and the ones who you love.

The $398 Family

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

As I speak on the phone with Gina, an applicant who received a $398 Modest Needs grant earlier this year, I can't help but feel distracted by a little girl chattering away in the background. Over and over she utters the same word: 'ma-ma-ma-ma-ma.' In any other conversation, I probably wouldn't have even noticed it. But the fact that this mother and daughter have come together is nothing short of a miracle -- a miracle that Modest Needs contributors played an enormous part in creating. And every time I hear those delightfully sweet little syllables, that 'ma-ma-ma' gives me goose-bumps.

If a year ago you'd asked Gina to look into 2009, motherhood wouldn't even have crossed her mind. She and her husband had been in their mid-twenties, happily married, and getting their first taste of the workforce in entry-level jobs. They'd discussed having children, but neither was in any particular rush.

Until they met a child who took hold of their hearts and wouldn't let go.

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When Gina first heard about a job opening in the Family Services Department for the state of Delaware, she wasn't especially intrigued. It wasn't as if she'd always had strong feelings on the topic of adoption or foster care. Her reason for applying was simple: she needed a job. Any job. When she landed the position, her primary responsibilities involved performing clerical duties and transporting children to their doctor's visits and other appointments. And one of those children was a very special little girl named Jasmine.

At 9 months old, Jasmine had been in foster care for months and wasn't thriving physically. Her mother was no longer present in her life. And at some point in their relationship, during those drives to see doctors and physical therapists, Gina and Jasmine's time together became more personal, more intimate. With every encounter, their bond intensified. Co-workers even teased Gina that Jasmine 'belonged in her arms.'

Gina began to consider the idea of adopting Jasmine, but didn't mention a word to anyone except her husband. Gradually, he came around to the idea and began spending weekends with this adorable child. Once that process got underway, there wasn't much convincing necessary.

'We just knew that she was meant to be with us,' Gina said simply. 'When I would pick her up, I felt it with all my heart. I couldn't face the idea of her becoming just another statistic.'

The first step toward adoption, according to the state, was for Gina and her husband to become foster parents. And so they proceeded, doing everything by the book, including adoption-parenting courses. The plan was to foster Jasmine first, and then adopt her. But Gina ran into wads of red tape when Jasmine's caseworkers began to change multiple times over. Through the complicated transition, weeks of time elapsed.

Suddenly, Gina had only a few months to pull together $800 for an adoptive home study -- which would include a thorough examination of their finances, credit history, personal references, and home. They scraped together half of the money, but if Gina and her husband couldn't come up with the remainder, Jasmine would be going back into the foster system. Friends and family weren't in a position to help, and neither of their employers offered any kind of financial adoption assistance.

'We've always had enough to pay our bills,' she explained. 'But we didn't have an extra $800 lying around.'

Gina had written down Modest Needs' name when she'd seen me on the Dave Ramsey Show a few months back. Her application was so different from the others, she explained to me, that she worried they wouldn't match our requirements. Gina and her husband weren't on the brink of foreclosure and homelessness, like so many of their fellow applicants. And yet her need was real, and equally as urgent.

The bureaucracy around Jasmine's adoption was frustrating and stressful for Gina; it was out of her hands entirely.

'We were desperate,' she admitted. 'It was a stab in the dark.'

But it certainly paid off.

A few weeks after applying for a grant, Gina received the check for the remainder of their adoptive home study and was literally 'jumping for joy.' It was, as she told me, a 'dream come true.'

As expected, Gina's adoptive home study went off incredibly smoothly. They were the perfect fit for Jasmine. And on February 20, 2009, this very lucky little girl came to live with her new family. By September, when the lawyers finish, Gina and her husband will be Jasmine's legal guardians once and for all.

'Because of Modest Needs donors, Jasmine has a shot at a good life,' Gina said. 'Not only has she been blessed -- we've been blessed. At a time when we needed the money the most, people were there for us.'

So how has motherhood been treating her?

'There is so much joy in our lives,' Gina said cheerfully. As the caretaker for her younger brother for most of his life, she's a natural with young children.

Adjusting their budget to cover Jasmine's necessities hasn't proven as difficult as she imagined it would. They've always been conservative and careful when it comes to money. And so when a tree crushed her husband's car in a major windstorm earlier this year, they decided to get rid of it. The money they once put toward a car payment now goes toward daycare.

And Jasmine?

Well, she's downright blossoming. Isn't it extraordinary what unconditional love and one-on-one attention will do for kids? She'll be 2 years old this month. She's running, talking, climbing, singing.

And most importantly, saying a whole lot of 'ma-ma-ma's'.

Life After a Layoff

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Ask people about the moment they got laid off, and I think you'll find that they remember every excruciating detail. The solemn expression on the boss' face. The particular time of day. The tightness in their chests and the panicked, paralyzing thoughts racing through their heads.

You don't have to be a pink-slip recipient to understand the firestorm of emotions it unleashes: anger, shame, depression, anxiety, terror, sadness. And last autumn, as the news media reported a new corporate shutdown seemingly every day, I began to receive a deluge of emails from laid-off workers who'd never once imagined themselves in such a financial scrape. Often, these communications came from men and women who'd been loyal to one employer for 15, 20, and sometimes 25 years.

At the time, Modest Needs wasn't set up to provide assistance to people who were out of work because we didn't characterize job loss as being a 'short-term emergency.' It had always been required of applicants to show that they could, in fact, support themselves after the short-term emergency passed. But it broke my heart to listen to these stories of layoff after layoff -- from hardworking people who'd been the picture of self-sufficiency for decades -- and not be able respond.

So I started thinking. I recognized that I couldn't guarantee these applicants a new job. What I COULD do, however, was to offer a little boost in the near-term, with the genuine hope that an extra month of childcare or car payment or mortgage help would represent just enough to see them into a new role. And that's how the Modest Needs Bridge Grant was born. Since its inception, the Bridge Grant has sustained dozens of people while they navigated those difficult first 90 days of unemployment. And for many -- like Lilly, the single mom below -- it has made all the difference.

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Lilly arrived at work on February 9, 2009, thinking that it would be another ordinary day at the office.

When she pulled up to the University of Chicago Medical Center, where she'd worked for 2 years as an administrative assistant, she took note of a few police cars at the entrance. Perhaps, she hoped, President Obama had swung by one of his old haunts? But no such luck. On the contrary, she was surprised to find men and women despondent in the lobby, some even weeping. Security forces had arrived on-site not to accompany the President, but rather the dozens of employees who would be leaving the building for good after a massive round of layoffs.

Just before lunch, Lilly's boss approached her. She'd been promoted only weeks before, but it didn't matter. She realized before he'd even said the words that she'd been let go.

'It was a crushing blow - just earth-shattering,' she tells me. 'All that kept running through my head was... WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?'

The next 2 months would find Lilly on a mad hunt for a new source of income, battling rejection, uncertainty, and depression on a daily basis. With boys aged 9 and 6 and a little 2-year-old girl, job loss had always been her greatest fear. She applied at hospital after hospital to no avail. She was unaccustomed to this sort of aimlessness. Her severance lasted only a few weeks, and her income tax return would go toward her bills for another month or two. But panic was starting to set in.

'I've always told my kids that, no matter what, you need to be strong. So I tried to hide my tears from them. It was really hard.'

Because her unemployment check didn't cover her basic monthly expenditures for the month, Lilly searched out a part-time job checking inventory for area grocery stores. The hours were grueling, and the pay was a meager $7.50/hour. She'd be on the road at 3, 4, and 5am, driving hours to reach some supermarkets in other parts of the state. There were no lunch breaks. She felt as though she never saw her children. She was paying the babysitter more than she was bringing home.

'As a parent, you do what you need to do,' she said. When she'd been laid off initially, she'd explained it away to her children by saying that she'd been offered a long vacation. After several weeks, however, her 9-year-old was asking questions.

One particularly hard week in April, Lilly's bank account was approaching zero, and her $650 rent payment was weighing heavily on her mind. She felt so hopeless that she rarely left the house. And just at her lowest point, Lilly's aunt alerted her to a place that might be able to help -- Modest Needs. Much to her surprise, Lilly read about our new Bridge Grant online and felt re-invigorated. She didn't need much: just a reprieve, a little stability to see her through her job search. As someone who'd always provided for her family and who'd been laid off through no fault of her own, it was clear that she was a perfect candidate for the Bridge Grant.

Feeling exhausted, Lilly stayed up late into the night to send us all of her documentation.

Just a few days later, she received a shocking, wonderful call from the University Chicago Medical Center. Her performance had been so strong that they'd located a different position for her within the company almost 3 months later, as a clinic coordinator. She started back up on Wednesday, May 4th, thrilled to be back in the work force, but still concerned about the $650 rent payment that was due weeks before she'd receive her first paycheck.

But she needn't worry about the threat of eviction much longer.

During that first week back on the job, Modest Needs donors funded Lilly's application for rent. She received the news via email one very early morning at 6:30am, and promptly called to wake up every friend she could think of.

'I was just blown away,' she said. 'These days, it's so hard to trust people. But the idea that there are people out there -- strangers! -- who opened their hearts to me... I could have written a 17-page thank-you note. If I could have personally thanked everyone individually, I would have. I'd probably still be crying!'

'I am on cloud 1,000,000,' she wrote in her testimonial. 'Know that my babies will be sleeping safe and sound in their beds for another year because of the one month of rent you paid for me. I am back on my feet, and you are the reason why.'

When I ask how her new job's going, I can almost feel her beaming smile come through the phone line. Great, she says. Just great.

Furthermore, her new financial stability means that she can continue to pursue her coursework in Healthcare Management -- and her dream to graduate college. In spite of the layoff, Lilly is still on track to receive her bachelor's degree in 2011.

When that first paycheck comes in at the end of May, she remarks, she won't be running out to buy clothes or those little extras that she and the kids have longed for since February. Those can wait, she insists.

Instead, the first $200 will come to Modest Needs. To extend a bridge to someone else in need. Thanks to your $650, she has already made it to the other side.

Turning Points

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Janet flips through photos of her children from 15 years ago, still incredulous at the series of tragedies that would befall her. Back then, life was full of possibilities, she explains. She never would have guessed her future: as a single mom, homeless despite years of grueling physical labor.

'I had the perfect little family back then,' she says wistfully, 'with three wonderful babies -- two boys and a girl.' She describes laughter-filled winter afternoons, with the gigantic family dog harnessed to a sled, pulling her toddlers around in the snow.

'I didn't realize how precious my life was.'

Janet can easily identify the turning point. It took place in 1993. She was on a road trip with her mother in Texas when a friend called, frantic, with news that Janet's husband, Vincent, a truck driver, had been hit head-on while making deliveries one evening. Eight people had died in the accident not far from her New Jersey home. Hours later, after a harrowing flight back, Janet learned that Vincent had survived, but not without a severe brain injury.

In the period after Vincent's accident, Janet would devote herself to his recovery full-time. It would require years of physical therapy for him to re-learn almost every skill -- even those as basic as walking and talking. Still, the doctors warned her, he'd likely never return to the man he once was. As Janet explains, brain injuries don't just affect your physical abilities; they alter your personality.

'It makes your soul different,' she says sadly.

In fact, despite her best efforts, Vincent grew aggressive to the point that Janet couldn't bear to sleep in the same bed with him anymore. And after 5 years caring for him, and praying that he'd eventually return to the man she'd married, she left him. With no belongings except her three kids in tow.

In her new role as single parent, Janet wouldn't receive any child support due to Vincent's disability status. Instead, she gathered her strength and established her own cleaning company. Her first job consisted of cleaning the restaurant where she also worked as a waitress. It became her main source of income for more than 10 years, augmented with cleaning jobs at private homes. For most of her children's youth, Janet cleaned seemingly round the clock, struggling to pay for the no-frills 2-bedroom apartment they shared.

When the restaurant went bankrupt recently, Janet's income dropped off substantially. And in a desperate attempt to keep the kids (now teens) at their own schools -- one of the best districts in the state -- Janet moved the family into her boyfriend's house. Unfortunately, the arrangement deteriorated quickly. The reality of living with three teenagers proved too much for him.

Janet was at a total loss. Cleaning jobs had dried up in this belt-tightened economy, and she'd done so much damage to her back over the years that she would literally weep while scrubbing floors. With no money available and no other options, she split up the children and moved her youngest son in with her 85-year-old mother.

'We had no address for 5 months,' she tells me. But what she did have was incredibly strong motivation to reunite her family. It was all she thought about.

This past February, Janet finally saved up enough for a down payment on an apartment. And even more exciting, she'd managed to score a job as a driving instructor to replace the income she'd lost in her cleaning business.

Everything was finally moving in the right direction... until her brakes went.

It wasn't unexpected; Janet's brakes had been making an awful grinding noise for weeks. But she never envisioned the scene that would unfold as she drove her son, Bryce, to school one morning. The brakes just flat-out stopped functioning. She found herself yanking on the emergency brake at every red light. To say it was a dangerous situation would be an understatement.

Suddenly, all the progress she'd made toward self-sufficiency seemed inconsequential. Without the car, she couldn't take the job as a driving instructor. Without a job, she wouldn't be able to feed her kids.

Janet applied to Modest Needs, skeptical but desperate. Within a week, our donors funded her $359 request for new brakes.

Relief, she tells me, couldn't begin to describe her reaction.

'When you've been through so much, the smallest thing can make you just so happy.'

As we continue our conversation, I start to realize that receiving the Modest Needs grant wasn't nearly as important to Janet as the sense of community and support it provided.

Both Janet's sons suffer from chronic conditions -- her youngest with ADD and her oldest with bipolar disorder. Her extended family has shrunk in tragic ways over the past decade. Apart from her husband's accident, she has suffered the loss of her brother, a U.S. Naval Academy graduate, in a freak car accident. More recently, the death of her father from throat cancer came as a devastating blow. Throughout her life, he'd been 'her rock' -- the one person she felt she could always count on. It's when she speaks of his loss, and the void it has caused, that she begins to break down.

'It's just me now,' she says tearfully. 'No siblings. I was adopted at 3 months old, and blessed with the best parents in the world. I just wish I could have given my kids a better childhood.'

On the contrary, I think to myself. This woman has always put her children first. And while she might FEEL alone, she isn't. Our donors made sure of that when they dug into their pockets to get her those new brakes.

'In these bad economic times,' she writes in her testimonial, 'it just goes to show you that no matter what happens, people always pull together and help one another. It doesn't matter who you are, where you came from, or what color your skin is. No one likes to see anyone have to suffer.'

Janet described her husband's 1993 accident as the defining moment in her life, the event that first sparked her descent into darkness. But I'd like to think that this Modest Needs grant might represent an equally important turning point -- the positive kind this time around.

Janet seems to agree.

She immediately brightens when sharing the details of her new job, and repeats over and over again how grateful she is for the car repairs that enabled her to accept it. She and her sons are now settled in their apartment, together. It may not be the future she expected -- or deserved, for that matter -- but it's so much more promising than it was a few months ago. And that, my friends, is down to every one of you.

Foreclosure: A Renter's Story

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

A few years ago, 'foreclosure' wasn't a term you heard every day. The idea of someone losing his or her home was tragic and unusual -- an anomaly even. Today, however, foreclosures occur on such a massive scale, with so much media coverage, that it's easy to forget what the harrowing experience entails for an individual family. Fear. Confusion. Despair.

For most of the Modest Needs applicants facing this reality, foreclosure also represents the very last stage of a brutal fight. It's a heartbreaking surrender months in the making, after every last financial option has been exhausted.

With a few notable exceptions, of course.

Emma, a 31-year-old woman from Austin, TX, came face-to-face with the foreclosure crisis in one terrifying, unexpected moment. She would experience all of the anxiety without any of the warning.

One Thursday evening a few months ago, Emma pulled into her driveway to find a bank employee at her doorstep, announcing that her house was being foreclosed upon and that she had 2 weeks to vacate. But... she'd been paying her bills. Every month, without fail.

The problem? Emma didn't own her home. She and her boyfriend, Marcus, were renters -- and new renters at that.

'I felt like I was on an episode of Dateline,' she told me. She was surprised, disappointed, and, more than anything, left scrambling to find her footing. Her mind raced with concerns. How would she move within 2 weeks? Where would they live? What would they do with all of the furniture? How would they get their security deposit back? How would they pay for storage? And, most importantly, where would the money for a new down payment come from?

Emma and her boyfriend Marcus had been scraping by as it was. After a long stretch of unemployment -- the nonprofit where she'd worked had lost its funding -- Emma had finally landed a new job just weeks before this news. Her boyfriend, meanwhile, managed a local record store. They'd put every last dime they had into securing this duplex, where they'd resided for only 3 months.

When Emma called her landlord in a panic, he claimed that the bank had foreclosed prematurely. It was a mistake, he insisted. He advised her not to worry. But Emma wasn't content with that answer. Astutely, she decided to solicit some advice from a lawyer-friend. Much to her surprise, he confirmed that yes, the house was officially in foreclosure. Furthermore, he explained, she was legally entitled to a minimum of 30 days to leave the property -- not the 14 days the bank representative had specified in her front yard. Her friend also counseled her to stay on the premises until her security deposit had been returned.

Emma felt relieved that she'd earned a 2-week reprieve, and she immediately began taking steps to gather the necessary funds. But nothing about the situation seemed right or fair. To compound the stress around her impending move, there was another financial complication to consider. Because Emma's utility payment -- a monthly fee that included electricity, trash pickup, sewer, and water -- was so significant, she and Marcus had signed up for a payment plan. But in order to turn on utilities in her next house, she would be required to pay off the balance in full.

Emma was making herself sick trying to work out how to make that happen. Even if she COULD somehow retrieve her security deposit and find a new place to rent, she might just be sitting there in the dark.

When Emma learned about Modest Needs on her local TV news, her spirits were buoyed for the first time in weeks. Finally, she recalled, there was an organization designed to help people like her -- people who aren't completely 'on the bottom,' as she put it. And sure enough, within just a few days, Modest Needs donors paid off the $345.51 utility bill that had been causing her so much anguish.

'It was such a good feeling to pay off that bill,' Emma recalled. 'You just can't imagine how stressed out I was. The Modest Needs grant was a godsend. I was so relieved.'

By the time the Modest Needs check arrived in the mail, Emma and Marcus were well on their way to resettling. They'd found a new house to rent. It was an unassuming but comfortable place, with a small yard for their two little dogs to enjoy. They'd continued living in the foreclosed house right up until the bank's eviction deadline, at their lawyer's suggestion, because it was their best chance of having the security deposit returned. Emma felt re-invigorated. Now that Modest Needs donors had shouldered the burden of her utility bill, she knew that they'd endured the worst of it.

'There are thousands of renters in our situation,' Emma remarked. 'Had I not known my rights as a renter, and had Modest Needs not stepped in, we would have been a lot worse off.'

Now this is not the usual foreclosure story, to be sure. But do you want to know what I found so moving?

Emma's no stranger to generosity. This is a woman with years of professional experience devoted to helping others. In her career in nonprofits -- starting with 11 months as an AmeriCorps volunteer -- she has worked with people living with HIV, victims of substance abuse, and domestic violence survivors. She understands the incredible power of small sums of money from first-hand experience. In one particular role, in fact, Emma spent months helping domestic violence victims transition into a new life. Her job was to supply them with up to $1,200 to pay off an old bill or car repair, for instance. It was just a 'boost,' she said, to get them onto their feet again.

Sound familiar?

Now tell me it doesn't feel terrific to be doing the same for a young woman like her.

It takes an amazing amount of chutzpah and resilience to stare down banks and landlords and the mighty foreclosure beast and come out unscathed. But even the strongest of us can use a helping hand every so often.

And that's what you provided. That last push at the end of the race.

Unlike the vast majority of foreclosure stories, this one actually has a happy ending. Because for $345.51, you made sure that, in her new house, the lights will be on.

From Homelessness to Hope

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

'Finally. Someone heard me.'

That's how Catina, an industrious single mom from Florida, described the feeling of relief when our contributors covered her rent a few months back. For the period leading up to that point, no one had been listening. In fact, no one had lifted a finger. Not when her fiancée went into renal failure. Not when the stress from his illness sent her into early labor. Not when she was evicted from her apartment and turned out onto the street with two children in tow.

No one was listening until you came along.

I often explain that I established Modest Needs to keep hardworking people from falling into the cycle of poverty, and, in the worst cases, homelessness. You might not realize this, but homelessness doesn't always mean freezing on a park bench. You'd be surprised how many people I talk to who, at some instance in their lives, were forced to live off relatives or spend a few days sleeping in their car. These are often individuals with full-time jobs, mind you. Sometimes, even with children. Catina is one of them.

Her troubles started suddenly about a year ago. She had just landed a new job in the medical field when her fiancée, Kevin, received a shocking diagnosis: renal failure. It was a serious, surprising, and frightening condition that required weeks in the hospital. That same month, while digesting this terrible news about the man she'd been with for more than 5 years, Catina discovered that she was pregnant. It would be her second child, as she already had a 16-year-old son, Daryl, from a previous relationship.

Her plan was to work all the way through to her due date in order to save up as much money as possible before the baby was born. But, as we all know so well, plans seldom unfold exactly the way we envision.

Catina's overwhelming level of stress around Kevin's illness took a significant toll on her physically. Two months before her due date, she went into early labor. Fortunately, her baby was born without major complications. He did, however, need to remain in the ICU for more than 2 weeks while doctors helped regulate his temperature. Catina took to bouncing between hospitals -- the baby Luke in one, her fiancée in another. By the time Luke was released, he was still shy of 5 pounds.

Meanwhile, Catina's financial situation was growing bleaker by the day. The loss of Kevin's income was devastating. And because Catina had left work on disability (at a reduced salary) earlier than expected, money got very tight very quickly. What should have been a time to celebrate Luke's birth became a period marked by excessive worry and financial ruin. Catina pawned everything she could, including her jewelry. She also broke off her engagement with Kevin, who had proven himself irresponsible and unsupportive during the family's crisis.

Despite her best efforts, Catina lost her apartment. She spent time living with her sister, and later her aunt. She rented a short-term condominium for a few weeks. But for all practical purposes, she and her two children were homeless.

When you speak to Catina today, she's a vivacious, eloquent, open, outgoing person with a playful sense of humor. But when she describes herself during this time -- depressed, sad, angry, overwhelmed -- she sounds like a completely different person. And who could blame her? She'd lost the person she'd planned to marry. Her baby required round-the-clock care, which meant that Catina was operating in a sleep-deprived fog. Her teenage son, Daryl, who'd never behaved badly in the past (thanks to his mom's diligence, presumably), found himself trouble with the law all of a sudden. And she had nowhere to call home.

Through sheer determination, Catina saved up enough money for a down payment on a new, less-expensive apartment. But almost immediately after moving in, the universe dealt her another potentially catastrophic blow: $300 in auto repairs.

She felt heartbroken. She needed the car -- 'just a raggedy old thing,' as she put it -- to get her sons to school and daycare and to transport herself to work. But by paying off the car repair, she wouldn't make her rent payment. Late fees would be applied. The numbers would continue snowballing. Catina was deathly afraid that she'd be evicted right after moving in.

'I was in a terrible, dark place, raising two kids by myself. I felt like I was the only person going through this kind of thing. Honestly, I didn't know what I was going to do,' Catina admits. Modest Needs was the only organization she could find to lend a hand to someone earning too much to qualify for government aid. Her application for one month's rent ($655) was funded quickly, thanks to people like you. And for the first time in months, Catina felt a profound sense of relief.

'When I received the email saying that I'd been funded, it was like someone had thrown me a life vest. I ran around my office telling everyone who would listen,' she remarked. 'Finally, someone heard me! Someone cared.'

More specifically, YOU cared. You cared enough to keep this family from a second, and perhaps permanent, experience of homelessness.

Catina is well aware that life as a single mom on a low income will never be easy. Every time the baby gets sick, the cost of co-pays and medication hit her budget. Daryl is still reeling from the loss of Kevin, who had served as a father figure to him for so many years. But with Catina's newly stable home environment, she's convinced that things are finally on the upswing.

After all, she's got what must be the most generous support system in the history of the Internet.

You.

Grinning All the Way to the Dentist

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

We've all heard the hypothetical question, 'What would you do if you only had a few months or years to live?'

All of a sudden, life becomes very urgent, doesn't it? Priorities come instantly into focus. I like to think that I'd immediately start pursuing those dreams or experiences that I'd put off thus far in life. But as much as I hate to admit it, I honestly wonder how I'd manage to move beyond the grief. At the point when time becomes so precious, I can't help but think what super-human strength of spirit would be required to absorb your own mortality, and then decide to make the very best of however many days lie ahead.

But that's exactly the kind of strength possessed by one extraordinary woman whose Modest Needs application you funded this past November.

Of all the applicants I've interviewed over the years, none have rattled off as many jokes or witticisms during our hour-long conversation as Mary, a 57-year-old from Southern California. There's no doubt that Mary has a lot to be cheery about in 2009 -- three wonderful adult children, a new grandbaby, and a job that she loves. She's a talkative, articulate, light-hearted, vibrant woman. She writes an online journal with a following of loyal supporters. She volunteers.

You'd never know that she has stage-4 bone cancer.

This summer, Mary was crushed to learn that, after 15 years of remission, her cancer had returned -- this time in her bones. It took doctors weeks to confirm the diagnosis, an agonizing period during which Mary kept her concerns to herself. She didn't want to alarm her family if the test results came back negative.

But they didn't come back negative.

Bone cancer is frightening enough. But stage-4 bone cancer? Just how does one deal with that?

'I tell people, I did most of my crying in the shower,' Mary said. 'And I took a LOT of showers.'

Her diagnosis, she soon learned, wasn't as bleak as you might think. Although the cancer had infiltrated her bones in five different places, including her skull, her oncologist explained that bone cancer is often viewed the same way as many other chronic medical conditions. With the right treatment -- namely, an osteoporosis drug called 'Zometa' -- Mary stands to enjoy a quality life for years to come.

There is, however, one rather large catch. While Zometa strengthens the bones in 99% of your body, it can have the opposite effect on your jawbone. While taking Zometa, even the tiniest bit of tooth or gum decay can trigger massive deterioration. So before embarking on this life-extending drug regimen, Mary's first step was to make absolutely sure that her teeth were in tip-top shape.

And that would cost a staggering $20,000.

Like so many of us, Mary lacked dental insurance for much of her life, and she'd historically tackled only the very worst repairs. As a result, she had an enormous amount of invasive work ahead of her. We're not talking simple fillings here. Mary had to compile a team of three dental professionals -- including a periodontist, oral surgeon, and endodontist -- for multiple root canals, extractions, a bridge, and a crown lengthening that became so severely infected that she couldn't eat for a week. Between August 2008 and January 2009, Mary visited her dentist an average 3 times a week for 2-3 hours each time. The worst experiences occurred in August, when she'd head straight from radiation over to the dentist's chair.

For those of us with dentist phobias, this concept is nothing short of horrific. But Mary chuckles as she explains that the first question she posed to her dentist was whether he offered 'sedation dentistry.' The two of them decided on some less drastic measures to assuage her anxiety.

'When I was diagnosed with cancer the first time around,' Mary said, 'I discovered that I have quite a strong will to live. When I heard 'stage-4 bone cancer' this time, I thought, I better not even buy any green bananas! But seriously, if they told me to walk down Main Street naked on my hands, I'd do it. I'd do whatever it takes to spend more time with my family.'

Mary would need to adopt that same take-no-prisoners approach in seeking out financial assistance for her formidable dental bill. As she wrote in a letter,

'I'm too old, too young, don't qualify for low-income subsidies, and don't meet the parameters of most Assistance Programs. I've researched; I've talked to people. I have a care-management oncology nurse who has used her nationwide network to find foundations or funds that assist people like me, who have to pay for 'pre-treatment' before they can continue cancer protocols... Modest Needs is the first foundation, charity, or philanthropic organization I've found that assists individuals they way that they do.'

It's a story I've heard time and time again -- that there's no one out there to help what Mary called 'your regular-old lower middle-class family.' She'd worked for 20 years as an administrative assistant. She and her husband had made excellent progress getting their finances in order. They'd almost managed to pay down all their credit card debt and hadn't had a car payment in years. Mary had landed a new job at San Diego State University. She and her husband were just starting the process of compiling an emergency fund.

Then the bone cancer struck. And after that, a mountain of debt.

'When you're faced with a crisis of this magnitude, money isn't the first thing that comes to mind,' Mary explained. 'But then, as you're dealing with it, you realize that it's the little things that knock you over. You have so much support in fighting the giant -- the cancer. People are sending you cards and presents, and giving so much support. But when your insurance denies a claim, or the bills pile up, that can just do you in.'

Mary was lucky enough to have good dental insurance, but even that would only cover $2,000 a year. Her dentist -- who she'd grown quite close with by now -- had placed her on a very reasonable 5-year payment plan. But the oral surgeon, for example, required payment upfront. There was only so much she could put on her credit cards.

She applied to Modest Needs for $994 to cover the outstanding balance for the endodontist who'd performed her very complex root canals. She submitted a short, practical application. At first, the response was slow. Days started coming and going, with only a few points accumulating here and there. Mary was growing more and more despondent. About a week before Thanksgiving, Mary checked her email one last time, late at night, and found that she'd been funded by the very generous employees at Loews. She called it her 'very own personal Thanksgiving.' Later, she would write a letter to Loews' President, Jonathan Tisch, to explain how she carried around the check in her pocket for hours on the day it arrived, incapable of believing that it was real.

'I've always been proud and independent,' Mary wrote, 'but a long time ago I had to learn that it was okay to ask for help. God inspires the people around me to give me hope and strength and help.'

She never guessed that those people would include complete strangers working at Loews.

Mary has witnessed how fear and anxiety have contributed to the deterioration of fellow cancer patients. And she's convinced that the right attitude will help her maintain her health. If she's correct, our Loews' donors haven't just paid off her dental bill; they've removed a toxic financial worry and replaced it with pure relief.

In fact, thanks to this bill being paid, Mary actually felt comfortable enough to help her youngest son fly out to California for the holidays. It was the first time in 12 years that she'd had all of her children together, and the first time she'd seen her youngest son, Ryan, since her diagnosis.

Mary's not happy or grateful that she got cancer. There's no denying that this disease is the blackest kind of cloud. But in situations like these, I like to think of you, our Modest Needs donors, as a little silver lining. Perhaps in Mary's case, that lining is just a different color.

A beautiful pearly white.

Joy and Peace (of Mind)

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

What do you see when you envision your golden years? Relaxation? Travel? Freedom from the monotony of the work world? The satisfaction of seeing your children starting families of their own?

Some of us are lucky enough to experience that kind of retirement idyll. But sadly, for too many seniors scraping by on fixed incomes -- including Larry and Cheryl, a Texan couple in their 70s -- it's about as likely as a reindeer showing up in their living room.

So how would Larry describe his retirement? Two words.

'We're eating.'

Instead of long-awaited vacations, Larry and Cheryl's days consist of doctor's visits and hospital stays. Instead of lazy afternoons at the park, there are evenings of meticulous record-keeping, as Larry examines every layer of their expenses to make room for even the smallest unexpected bill.

Here's the most disheartening part: Larry and Cheryl did everything right. An air force veteran, he boasted a long and successful career in photography and film production. They spent their money wisely, on the things in life that mattered most -- like finding the best possible home for their mentally challenged daughter, who, at 50 years old, still visits them most weekends.

But it doesn't matter that they've done everything right. It doesn't matter that, today, they remain extremely diligent about safeguarding their financial well-being. They won't take on a new car payment or a new mortgage. They pay off their credit cards at the end of every month to avoid interest. They stash away money on a regular basis to maintain an emergency fund for costs like car repairs.

What matters is that, in Larry's words, 'There's just no new money coming in.' When you reach your 70s, you're no longer clawing your way toward a better job or a bigger paycheck. You're simply struggling to maintain a certain degree of comfort.

And that's no easy feat when your health starts to fail.

Forty years ago, Cheryl was diagnosed with progressive Multiple Sclerosis, a degenerative disease whose intensity comes and goes in waves. She has spent the previous 10 years wheelchair-bound, and the past year almost completely confined to her own house. During this time, Larry has remained her devout caregiver, taking her to and from the doctor as well as managing the enormous amount of home-care she requires.

'Larry has been a lifesaver,' she says. But the past few years have become increasingly difficult. Cheryl's right side has grown so weak that she can't safely transfer herself from her wheelchair into bed, for example. She has sustained more than a few frightening, dangerous falls -- but always, luckily, when Larry was at home to help her.

Larry, meanwhile, has his own set of health issues to contend with. He has suffered two heart attacks, fights an ongoing battle with arthritis, and experiences macular degeneration in his eyes. He does all the couple's errand-running -- mostly grocery shopping and prescription-filling -- but neither he nor Cheryl feels totally comfortable about him leaving the house anymore. Every time he walks out the front door, he worries incessantly that Cheryl will fall in his absence, with no one to help her. Meanwhile, she fears that his extreme anxiety about HER health might ultimately cause him another heart attack.

'She has fallen getting out of bed. She has fallen from the commode,' Larry said. 'What if she couldn't reach the phone? What if she'd forgotten to have the phone with her?'

Larry and Cheryl discovered a simple solution to ease their minds and make Cheryl safer at home: a rescue alert system that she could wear around her neck. If she fell, she'd simply push a panic button that would call Larry on his cell phone and contact an operator in the case she needed an ambulance. No more danger for Cheryl, and no more paralyzing worry for Larry. The perfect antidote, right?

Wrong.

The installation of the alarm system plus the fee to have it monitored cost $750.

'We're part of a forgotten niche,' Larry explained, 'a niche of people who are strapped, but not destitute.' There wasn't any way they'd be able to come up with an extra $750, living on their Social Security and disability income.

The two of them got to thinking. Earlier this year, they'd applied for a Modest Needs grant that would make their home's doorways smoother, allowing Cheryl's electric wheelchair to navigate around the house and to outdoor areas. They'd been shocked when donors had come through for this expense, and felt hopeful that these same bighearted contributors might be generous enough to provide the alert system.

At first, Cheryl applied for just one year of the rescue alert service, thinking that she'd be more likely to receive payment if the grant amount were as small as possible. Our donors responded swiftly. One year of the alert system would clearly provide an enormous relief to the two of them. But what about after 365 days? Was one year enough?

Not as far as we were concerned.

So we did a little research. For a nominal increase, we made sure that your contributions would cover a lifetime plan, which mean that Larry and Cheryl will NEVER need to worry about either one of them being at home alone.

Now at Modest Needs, we don't have the flexibility to make very many exceptions. (Indeed, our extremely rigorous requirements are the very reason why we're able to make such efficient use of our donors' contributions.) So it's an especially rewarding day when I can surprise someone like Larry or Cheryl with a gift BEYOND what they asked for.

'It was so unexpected to receive the lifetime plan -- and such a relief. A double dose of happiness,' Larry remembers.

On the morning that the alert system was installed in their home, Larry sent an email to Fawn Volkert, the couple's Client Advocate here at Modest Needs' New York Office. He described how they'd tested out the system in every room and how impressed they were with its long-distance range. All of a sudden, a trip to the grocery store wasn't so nerve-wracking.

'Boy, I'm, telling you, I feel like my hair is starting to turn black again!' Larry joked.

When I spoke to Larry and Cheryl a few weeks ago on the telephone, Larry did most of the talking. He came across the consummate Southern gentleman, with a thoughtful, articulate manner and what must be one of the nation's most endearing Southern drawls. He and Cheryl punctuated their explanations with bursts of light-heartedness and humor, even as they described the awful workings of MS. But perhaps the most memorable thing about our conversation was the way in which they spoke about each other, with a quiet but undeniable loyalty and affection.

The sense of relief that you provided to this very special couple seems worth the $750 in and of itself. But in truth, the gift you gave isn't limited to that much-needed peace of mind. You see, Larry and Cheryl are realists. They don't take for granted the fact that they're still able to live in their beloved house of 38 years, despite Cheryl's severe physical limitations. The logical next option -- a nursing home -- is one they're determined to put off, at least for now. But both of them recognize that it will become a necessity at some point, in the event that one or the other dies. I hope that situation doesn't come to pass for a very, very long time. And for every single day they have until then, you've made sure that Larry and Cheryl can spend it at home, together.

Today, you've made a wonderful, admirable statement with your kind donations at Modest Needs. You've said that 'we're eating' just isn't good enough. Not for Larry and Cheryl.

Not for anyone.

The Flip Side of a Tragedy

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Do you think that people who feel the most pain in this world can also feel the most kindness?

I do. You might even say that I cling to that notion -- to the idea that applicants who've lived through unimaginable misery will ultimately experience your goodwill and generosity in some larger way. That's certainly my hope for Marion, a widow from New Hampshire whose car repair you funded a few weeks ago. Her application contained only the barest of details, but more than enough to convey the vastness of her despair: husband passed, sick kids, car repair. The universe just wouldn't give Marion a break. If anyone deserved an infusion of kindness, it was this very special woman.

Marion and her husband Leo never had much. She was a nurse; he was a truck-driver. They couldn't afford fancy gifts or amusement parks for their children, Olivia and Leo. But they'd always made ends meet, even with the mysterious illnesses that had plagued their kids from a young age. As a toddler, their firstborn Olivia fell prey to a series of ear infections so serious that she eventually lost 90% of her hearing in one ear. Furthermore, at the tender age of 3, after copious visits to the gastroenterologist, she was also diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

A few years later, their next child Leo would also fall victim to chronic ear infections, although these would seem minor in relation to his other medical problems. When Leo was a mere 4 years old, doctors discovered that the little boy had a life-threatening heart arrhythmia -- the kind to blame for those mysterious cardiac arrests experienced by teenagers on the playing field. The arrhythmia would mean a lifetime of monitoring for Leo...and a lifetime of anxiety for his mother.

If that weren't enough, another terrible trauma befell Leo shortly after his arrhythmia diagnosis: a dangerous tumble down a steep staircase at home. 'Right after the fall, he said he wanted to go to sleep,' Marion remembered. 'As a nurse, I knew the warning signs.' And she was right. Leo had not only fractured his skull, but he'd incurred a bleed in his young brain.

Marion threw on her clothes, rushed him to the local hospital and was instructed to drive him immediately to Boston for brain surgery. As they ushered Leo into surgery for a craniotomy that would remove half of his skull, doctors made remarks to Marion like, 'We can't make you any promises,' and 'This surgery is like removing gum from tissue paper.' She and her husband were in shock. Miraculously, after hours and hours, the surgeons did manage to control Leo's bleeding, and he came through the operation without any obvious neurological damage.

Any parent knows how excruciating it can be when your child experiences pain -- much worse than if you were fighting it off yourself. Well, Marion was drowning in this kind of anguish. She and her husband had endured a lifetime's worth of worry about their kids. And their children weren't even 10 years old yet.

I wish I could stop the unraveling of Marion's story here. Because, if you can believe it, Marion's greatest tragedy was still yet to come.

In the autumn of 2001, Marion's husband fell asleep early one evening. For the first time in 10+ years of marriage, Marion opted for the couch. Meanwhile, young Leo slept in bed with his dad, curled around his body. When Marion woke the next morning, her daughter Olivia was in a panic, explaining that her father wasn't breathing. Marion flew into the bedroom, and was devastated to find that her husband Leo must have had died shortly after falling asleep. His body had already started showing the gruesome physical signs of death.

Not only had Marion become a widow at 35 years old... but doctors were never able to tell her why her husband Leo had died. And her children had experienced the horror of finding their father's body.

'That image will never leave us,' she said sadly.

Seven years later, the family's wounds are still fresh. They continue to grieve his loss. As Marion described him, (Big) Leo was a little rough around the edges. Think lots of tattoos. But he was also a man remembered for his remarkable kindness. A few months before his death, he'd been in a serious truck accident in which he'd chosen to ram the Jersey barrier and endanger his own life rather than risk jackknifing, which would have flung his cargo of sheetrock toward drivers in the oncoming lane.

'That's just the kind of person he was,' Marion remarked.

Both traumatized children required years of therapy. Marion was destroyed emotionally and fearful about her new role as a single parent. Her son Leo's heart condition still presented a daily worry. And, with one less salary coming in, money started running short. Very short.

Since then, Marion and her family have subsisted on her husband's Social Security death benefits, which don't leave much room for unexpected expenses. They live modestly, in a trailer Marion purchased after her husband died. (She couldn't face going back to the home where he passed away.)

2008 has been especially difficult on them. Leo, now 11, is displaying severe learning disabilities -- possibly a result of his fall down the stairs as a toddler -- and continues to require invasive ear surgeries. Olivia, meanwhile, has fallen into a rough group of friends as she enters high school. To her mother's horror, she was recently caught shoplifting. Olivia explained to a judge why she'd do such a thing by saying, simply, 'because my mom doesn't have the money to buy me any clothes.'

'You can imagine how difficult that was to hear, as a parent,' Marion said.

Something had to give. Marion was having a hard time affording groceries. She had lost 30 pounds from the stress alone. She'd felt compelled to quit her nursing job to get the children back on track at home. And then came the last straw: the car broke down.

Marion had absolutely nothing left to pay for the $721.48 repair. Getting to the grocery store she could manage, thanks to the graciousness of neighbors willing to provide rides. But a much more important consideration were the children's doctor's appointments -- literally dozens of them every year. With Boston Children's Hospital more than an hour away, it was quite a favor to ask of anyone. In the long-run, how would she get them to the ear and cardiac and psychological specialists who'd seen them for years?

She would apply for a Modest Needs grant, that's how.

And you, our donors, would make sure that Olivia and Leo didn't miss one appointment.

Marion's application was funded in no time. And things have been looking up from there. With the car repair off her mind, Marion managed to save up enough extra cash to stockpile some food and fix the damaged insulation that had left her trailer cold all last winter. And, of course, she's taking Leo and Olivia to the doctor every time they need to go.

'I just couldn't stop crying when I read the email that I'd been funded,' Marion said. 'I felt like the weight of the world was lifted off me. I can't tell you how many rosaries I said. I wish that I could write a thank-you note to every donor who gave. I wish that I could do something -- anything -- to let people know how much this has meant to us.'

Early on in our conversation, Marion had said to me, sadly, 'Nothing has been normal for us. Nothing.' In all my years interviewing Modest Needs applicants, few have experienced such a long and catastrophic string of misfortune -- and so many events that defy explanation, like the sources of her children's illnesses and her husband's passing.

But amid all this misery, and after relaying to me so many intimate and painful details of her life, Marion positively lit up when she spoke about the strangers who'd contributed toward her application. She was just gushing. It was as if she'd seen a glimmer of the flip side of her tragedy. It was as if she'd been reminded that, despite losing her best friend and facing a tough financial road ahead, she's not alone in the world anymore.

And that, my friends, is how $721 can change a life.

The Future of Philanthropy

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

I'm a firm believer that the power of generosity and kindness far outweighs the power of money -- especially when it comes to donations. Perhaps that makes me an inefficient fundraiser. But when I hear stories like the story of 14-year-old Dylan Franks, I'm more convinced than ever.

Dylan, one of the most driven, compassionate young people I've had the pleasure of encountering, considers himself a zealous supporter of Modest Needs. He and his family have never applied for a grant; they've never donated toward our cause. But without a doubt, Dylan represents one of Modest Needs' most spectacular success stories, taking the phrase 'paying it forward' to a completely new level.

Imagine yourself at age 14, in the 8th grade. On what do you spend your time and energy? Video games, sports, evenings at the movies or the mall? That's quite literally child's play for Dylan Franks. Although he's as busy as any 14-year-old with social outings and extra-curricular activities, this budding entrepreneur has recently started his own grassroots charity -- the DoGooders -- to help needy individuals in his Santa Clara, CA community. And I'm extremely honored to tell you that the inspiration for this endeavor came to him by way of Modest Needs. Or at least partly.

It all started at his local recycling center. To help his aunt raise money toward a gift for her son (Dylan's cousin), he volunteered to round up some plastics and glass and trade them for cash at the recycling station. While there, Dylan noticed a few other families doing the same. But after a few minutes, he realized that these people weren't saving up for a gift like he was. They were recycling to scrape together grocery money. He was shocked. Immediately he decided to give his recyclables to those families.

'They needed the money more than my cousin needed this gift,' Dylan explained.

A few days later, Dylan overheard his mother, Denise, telling his father about a Modest Needs article she'd read on AOL. He listened to her talk about how Modest Needs had once been a kernel of an idea in my head, a tiny little website. Between the underdog example of Modest Needs and his eye-opening experience at the recycling station, something clicked. Dylan would pool together as much recycling as he could, turn it in for cash, and donate the proceeds to less fortunate individuals in his community.

He reasoned that 'if Keith Taylor can do it, I can do it.' And he was right. Not that starting up a charity when you're in the 8th grade is simple or straight-forward.

For 2 months, Dylan solicited clients for his recycling pickups, set up a dedicated phone number, designed flyers, and built a website with the help of family members. He regularly lugged his neighbors' recycling back to his garage for safekeeping (where it now takes up quite a lot of space, as you can imagine!). So far, after two trips to the recycling station, this exceptional young man has already raised $107.50 and landed more than 10 customers.

His next goal was to locate the right charity for his donation.

Dylan was open to all kinds of options, with only one non-negotiable pre-requisite. Just as we do at Modest Needs, he felt compelled to see EXACTLY how the money would be allocated. He needed it to go toward helping people, rather than whittling away at a local nonprofit's bottom line. Plenty of area foundations and charities couldn't give him enough control over the funds to satisfy him, and many balked at working with someone so young. Eventually, however, one very special organization approached him with just the right opportunity: the Penny Lane Foster Home.

This December, Dylan will be using the proceeds from his recycling business to purchase holiday gifts for the teenagers who live there. Why teenagers? His reasons sounded eerily familiar to me: because teenagers living in foster homes are so often overlooked by conventional philanthropy. (Just as the low-income families we serve are often ignored by the system if they live just above the poverty line, I thought to myself.)

'People donate toys and Tonka trucks and Barbie dolls, but they don't consider the older kids there,' Dylan told me. 'I'm their age, and I know that I wouldn't want a Tonka truck.'

Dylan's plan for gift-giving (of course he already has a plan!) is to purchase mall gift certificates so that these teens have the opportunity to choose something special for themselves for the holidays. He's even planning to approach the mall to inquire about a match for these donations.

'I like how Modest Needs was about helping people. It wasn't about big business. If someone needed glasses, you gave them glasses. I like that. I want to help one person at a time, too,' Dylan remarked.

After a few minutes on the phone with him, I was desperate to discover how Dylan had grown into such a remarkably giving person as such a young age. It should come as no surprise that his parents have a great deal to do with it. I'd already been supremely impressed by his mother, who'd first approached me via a beautifully written email I'd received the week before. Her sense of pride and admiration was evident:

'My boy has always had a great big heart for doing good, a brilliant mind for doing business, and he believes firmly that building one's character can only be obtained through Honorable Actions, Love, and Honesty. But I never thought that he would find something that would help him incorporate all of those attributes, especially in today's world. Every day, I see him working hard and getting people involved. He is opening up people's hearts, chipping away some of the rough edges life sometimes leaves on a human being's soul. I know he is proud and honored to be doing his small part in the world, one person at a time. So thank you so much for sharing your story on the net. It brought joy to our lives as well as helping my son to find the greatest part of himself, through random acts of kindness.'

As Denise explained, Dylan's penchant for philanthropy isn't limited to his DoGooders project.

'Dylan has always been charitable. He's the kind of kid who sees someone outside the group and hangs back to make them feel welcome,' she said. Like in his karate class. One boy there is deaf. And from day one, Dylan has stood next to him, communicating the sensei's instructions. No one asked him to do it; it's just his way. The sensei was so impressed, in fact, that he has invited Dylan to attend a class on becoming a sensei -- an honor usually reserved only for black belts.

'I look at my children and think how sweet and goodhearted they are,' Denise started, 'but it's also frightening.' After years of home-schooling both Dylan and his older sister, Denise takes comfort in the idea that they aren't 'hardened' like so many other teenagers. Dylan, for example, often says how he'd never want to work for someone who's dishonest. But we all know that the world isn't always a kind place, and Denise was growing more and more fearful about how Dylan would find his way. Until she read about Modest Needs.

'If there's a place out there for you, Keith, there's a place out there for my son. Modest Needs gave him a purpose. You showed that a random act of kindness can inspire amazing things. We see how large and successful Modest Needs has grown, and we look to you as a big brother. We are so grateful.'

***

Last week, I was honored to have been invited to attend the Clinton Global Initiative conference. On the first day of that spectacular meeting, I sat in the audience, literally stupefied, as Bill Clinton and Bill Gates sat together on a stage and extolled the virtues of Modest Needs - by name, and in front of an audience comprised of world leaders - calling our work, and the model that we use to do it, the 'future of philanthropy.'

To say that I was honored to see our work recognized in this way would be a tremendous understatement. But friends, I do not believe that any website, any organization, any cause, any mode of giving is really 'the future of philanthropy.' Rather, I believe that the future of philanthropy lies within the ability of organizations like Modest Needs to help people to believe again in their OWN power to make a genuine difference in this world - right here, right now, wherever they are, and whomever they happen to be - even if that difference happens one life at a time.

I'm proud that so many of you have chosen - and continue to choose - to make a genuine difference in the lives of others through Modest Needs, even in tough economic times, when our help - your help - is needed most. But the truth is that Modest Needs would be nothing, do nothing, achieve nothing, if it were not for each of you out there doing what you can, every day, to make a genuine difference in the lives of others, even if, for people like us, that means changing the world just one life at a time.

Ladies and gentlemen, to inspire the next generation to believe in their power to make a difference, THAT is the future of philanthropy. And if Dylan's story can teach us anything, it is that we can never know how far our own simple acts of kindness or the example we set via our work at Modest Needs and elsewhere will reach, how many people we'll inspire, and how many lives we ultimately will change.

Modest Needs is terrific organization, but it is not the future of philanthropy. Through the example that you set for others through your daily acts of kindness at Modest Needs and elsewhere, YOU - each of you reading this - YOU are the future of philanthropy.

Never forget that, and never let anybody tell you differently.

The future of philanthropy depends on it.

Kindness: the Best Medicine

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Not too long ago, Martha would have described her life as being 'happy and normal.' She worked full-time as a housekeeper, never had a problem paying her bills, and spent her weekends going to church and working out in the yard in her hometown of Wetumpka, Alabama. She felt good in general for her 52 years -- lucky even.

But then, on 2 July 2007, everything changed for Martha when a regular annual mammogram turned up three spots of breast cancer. 'It was like being hit with a ton of bricks,' she said. 'Things started moving so fast. And my mind just shut down.'

On the day of her breast cancer diagnosis, Martha couldn't bear the idea of talking to anyone. Instead, she headed to the mall and walked around, for hours, in a daze. She felt completely devastated. It took her a full day to get up the gumption to break the news to friends and family. 'Everyone was telling me not to worry and giving words of encouragement,' she said. 'But it doesn't matter if you're a Christian, or if you're trying to stay optimistic... It's really hard not to worry.'

What followed her diagnosis was a seemingly endless series of doctor's appointments and tests -- each with its own co-payment, of course -- and a date set just weeks later for the removal of the infected breast.

To make matters worse, Martha realized that she'd need to be out of work for at least 2 months to recover from the surgery, with no disability payments or salary during the time she was off. She had no idea how she'd come up with the mortgage, especially with all the doctor co-pays and prescriptions starting to accumulate.

Although she's close with her children and brother and sister, none of them were in a position to help her out financially. But in a stroke of luck, her daughter Stephanie, who had come to take care of Martha around the operation, found Modest Needs online. She submitted an application to cover one month of her mother's mortgage payment ($239) while Martha was recovering from the invasive surgery.

At the time of her application, Martha feared that she would lose her home, right as her grueling recovery process was about to begin. 'It may not be much, but my little matchbox is a mansion to me,' she said. 'I couldn't imagine going through this anywhere other than in the comfort of my own home.'

When we read Martha's application and did the math, we realized that she hadn't asked for enough money. How could she return to the physical nature of housekeeping without more recuperation? Didn't she need two months' mortgage paid for instead of just one?

How could we let her face the idea of an eviction halfway through her recovery?

So we didn't. Or rather, you didn't.

We increased the amount of her grant to cover 2 months' mortgage payments. And then, Modest Needs' donors - people just like you - funded her application almost immediately.

'When that Modest Needs grant came through, and for TWO months' mortgage, it was like a blast of sunshine through the clouds. I don't understand why I have cancer. Or why I had to have a breast removed. But I do know that the Lord saw fit for Modest Needs to help me. And I won't ever, ever forget.'

With Martha's mastectomy successful, her path toward reconstruction has begun. It hasn't been quick -- or easy. Her left arm doesn't function normally, and she's in a considerable amount of pain each day. She'll require at least a few more surgeries before the reconstruction is complete. As it stands, she has thousands of dollars in medical bills to pay, and a list of doctors so long that she can't remember half their names. She still worries that the cancer will someday invade the other breast. With cancer, she tells me, there are no guarantees.

But as long as her house is being paid for, Martha can manage.

'That grant took a ton of weight off my mind. When I lay down at night, I think to myself, 'I'd never even heard of Modest Needs!' But you rescued me. I was a nobody, a stranger to you, and you rescued me. You were such a blessing.'

Like so many Modest Needs applicants, Martha is a religious person, and she believes that things that are meant to be, will be. I'll give her this: quite a few events did fall into place for her.

Take, for example, her mammogram. Although Martha is usually diligent about her annual check-ups, she nearly skipped the mammogram this year. She'd dropped into her doctor's office in Montgomery, Alabama, hoping for a walk-in appointment and thinking she'd go another year if they couldn't take her on that particular day.

As it happened, the doctor was booked solid. But Martha decided to schedule her mammogram for the following week anyway.

Why the change of heart, I wondered? Simple. 'Because the receptionist there was just nice as could be,' Martha remarked.

Talk about the power of kindness. Without that mammogram, Martha might not be here today.

And without the kindness of your donations, she surely wouldn't be this far along on the road to recovery.

360 Degrees of Kindness

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

When I established Modest Needs in 2002, my goal was simple: to help low-income families stay self-sufficient. I never expected that a miraculous cycle would develop, that the same people in desperate need of a few hundred dollars one month would become Modest Needs contributors the next. That so many of our funded applicants -- some on the verge of total destitution -- would start donating $3 or $10 or $100 a month as soon as they got back onto their feet, bringing to life the phrase 'paying it forward' time and time again.

Over the years, I've seen hundreds of examples of this cycle, but none more compelling than the story of Pamela, a wife and mother in Joliet, Illinois.

Pamela has experienced more heartache within the last 5 years than any one person should have to bear. When she first came to Modest Needs in 2003, her son had recently committed suicide. Understandably, Pamela was dealing with a level of grief that few of us can even begin to comprehend. And exacerbating that grief was her inability to achieve a sense of closure around her son's death. You see, at the time, she couldn't afford a headstone for him. And every time she visited his grave, that void became more and more painful.

Back in 2003, Modest Needs donors came through for Pamela and funded her application for a headstone, much to her surprise. It was the first time in ages that she'd felt a helping hand, after having had, as she put it, 'door after door slammed in my face.' She vowed never to forget the kindness of these strangers who had helped her get through the excruciating period following her son's untimely death.

Then, just a short time later, tragedy struck again. Pamela, who had managed to beat breast cancer back in 1996 through chemotherapy and radiation, was diagnosed again with the disease in 2004, a day before her 50th birthday. With the advice of her doctors, she decided that a double-mastectomy was her best chance at survival.

She had planned on getting breast implants after the operation, but a particularly nasty staph infection and the prospect of a new series of surgeries changed her mind. Instead, she decided that a prosthesis was the way to go after a long period of recuperation.

When she acquired her prosthesis, however, she was horrified to find that it weighed a whopping 20 pounds. And those 20 pounds felt a whole lot heavier after Pamela lost a significant amount of weight. It wasn't just uncomfortable; the prosthesis was actually causing her severe neck and back pain, and yet she 'felt like a freak' leaving the house without it.

'At the time, I felt horrible about myself,' she explained. 'I didn't want to leave the house, see friends, even go to picnics. I felt like I looked like, well, a boy, without the prosthesis.'

Much lighter, more advanced prostheses were available. They were just prohibitively expensive. The best one for Pamela's body, a 5-pound version, cost more than $5,000. And although her insurance company would step up to cover most of the cost, $315 fell to Pamela to fund. Being on a fixed disability income, she found that she just couldn't scrape together that much money.

So you came up with it for her.

That's right. In 2007, Modest Needs' donors did it again, funding Pamela's second application. After years of chronic back and neck pain, Pamela was finally able to enjoy her life again.

And then, last month, this woman who'd managed so many hardships with grace and resiliency received a third and crushing blow. Her beloved husband of 11 years, Cliff, died unexpectedly of lung illness at the young age of 52. Pamela was absolutely devastated. He'd been ill for the past year or so, suffering from lung problems and sleep apnea. But Pamela never guessed that he would leave her so soon. Cliff was the caretaker of his elderly father. He'd been a beloved grandfather. He was, as Pamela described him, a 'gentle giant' without a malicious word for anyone. In all the years she'd known him, she can't remember him once raising his voice to her.

With Cliff's passing came not only heartbreak but financial concerns. Did he have life insurance? What would Pamela do to help his elderly father? Where would she live? And most urgently, how would she pay for Cliff's funeral?

In an admirable display of generosity, Cliff's employer of 14 years -- Harrah's Casino, where Cliff had worked as a cage cashier -- offered to put $2,500 toward the cost of his funeral. Pamela was relieved; it was one worry off her mind. By this point she'd been researching her options and found that cremation was the least expensive choice, priced at about $1,700. If Harrah's was nice enough to offer, Pamela didn't want to spend their money frivolously. But even after informing Harrah's that she only needed $1,700, they insisted on the full $2,500. They asked her to choose her favorite nonprofit to receive the remaining $800.

You can guess where Pamela told them to send the money.

When she emailed me a few weeks back with news of this $800 donation, I recognized a sight I've seen so many times before: the cycle of giving coming full-circle again. And you want to know something truly amazing?

Pamela's $800 donation in honor of her husband Cliff is almost the EXACT amount we've granted to her over the course of her two separate applications -- $315 and $500, respectively. How's that for karma?

Except that, in light of our ongoing matching grant initiative, Pamela's $800 donation actually doubles to $1,600. So she'll be doing TWICE the amount of good that we were able to do for her.

In her email to me, Pamela simply and beautifully articulated her reason for choosing Modest Needs: 'Why did I pick your organization? Because twice when I needed help, you were there for me. I never forgot the help you gave me and always said that one of these days I would be in a position to give help back. I hope you can make someone's life much happier with this money, as you've made mine.'

When I followed up with Pamela on the phone, it had only been a few short, raw weeks since Cliff's death. And to be honest, if put in her position, I don't know if I would have even agreed to an interview during such a grief-stricken period. But Pamela jumped at the chance. She's clearly a remarkably strong person. Despite an overwhelming amount of trauma in her life, she continues to look toward to the future. She has made plans to move in with her daughter, and is spending her days moving Cliff's things out of his father's home.

She's one of an elite group of extraordinary people I've met through Modest Needs who've decided to create something noble out of their own personal tragedy.

In fact, Pamela's not satisfied with donating $800. As we end our conversation, she's emphasizing how much Harrah's liked Modest Needs' mission, and how they have the potential to donate significantly more. She would do whatever we asked to help persuade them to give more.

What I remember most vividly about our conversation, though, is the way she spoke about her late husband -- with affection, admiration, and a palpable sense of loss. I hope that in this donation she has found a least a small amount of comfort, in the knowledge that she has created a legacy of giving for Cliff, and for herself.

Because just as Cliff's love and friendship has made all the difference in her life, Pamela's courageous generosity will now do the same for dozens and dozens of others.

Piece by Piece

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

A few weeks ago, Modest Needs was barreling toward our most important milestone ever: our 5,000th funded grant application. And I confess that I was in a sort of giddy disbelief. After all, I vividly remember a time when we'd provided for just a few hundred applicants. I'm an optimist, but I never envisioned that we'd come so far so quickly. And here, in the Modest Needs office, the anticipation was palpable.

Five thousand isn't just a number to me, or an achievement worthy of a pat on the back. Because these are 5,000 funded applications represent (literally) many thousands of real human LIVES that we've changed. Many thousands lives people who've struggled through illness, loss, bad luck and long hours, who've felt abandoned by the system. Many thousands of individuals and families whose dashed hopes have been rekindled and whose self-sufficiency has been restored by the kindness of people like you.

Take Lucy, the very applicant who came in at number 5,000. She had just moved into public housing, a twin bed her only possession, when I spoke to her on the phone last week. She was covered in lesions and open wounds and suffering from near-exhaustion. It was, as she put it, 'the happiest I've been in years.'

Hard to believe?

Wait until you hear this remarkable woman's story.

Ten years ago, Lucy was earning $5,000 a month as an office manager and mortgage broker. She owned fine art, collected antiques, and felt totally comfortable financially. She would never have believed the unusual and horrific circumstances that would leave her withering away in a nursing home at the relatively young age of 59.

Lucy's health and financial problems first took root in 1999, when mysterious lesions began to surface on her face and body. Shortly thereafter she would come to be diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disorder called pemphigus, which causes the skin to attack itself. Since then, Lucy has been hospitalized 25 times for this chronic condition -- 18 times within the last 2 years alone. Her relentless disease has stripped Lucy of all her skin, head to toe, to the point that she now requires a walker, and after significant physical therapy she has learned to walk all over again.

'Even just the water pressure from a showerhead would tear the skin right off my body,' she explained. The steroid medication she took to keep the condition in check has increased her weight from 149 lbs to 350 lbs. Her hair has fallen out. She has developed life-threatening complications along the way, including a stomach ulcer and blood poisoning -- 'crisis after crisis after crisis,' as Lucy described it.

The most shocking and bizarre part of her diagnosis is the source of her debilitating condition. During the 1980s, Lucy lived with her husband in Washington state, where her husband worked as an engineer a nuclear power plant. Some years later, inspectors discovered that a significant radiation leak had occurred. And that, worse, the leak had infiltrated the town's water supply. For several years, the water in Lucy's home -- water she drank, cooked with, bathed and swam in -- had been contaminated with radiation. Today, that radiation poisoning no longer lays dormant in her body. Instead, it makes her susceptible to a variety of illnesses, including cancer. And, of course, pemphigus.

In 2000, Lucy joined a class-action lawsuit against her husband's employer, informed by dozens of lawyers that she stood to receive millions of dollars in compensation. But she hasn't seen a dime of that money, and she expects that she never will. When the Patriot Act took effect in the U.S., the legal team representing the nuclear plant where Lucy's husband had been employed (and specifically the government contractors there) denied Lucy's lawyer access to the scientific data he needed to prove her case. And so, like thousands of other Americans infected with radiation poisoning as a result of this unfortunate situation, Lucy waits.

For the past 2.5 years, she has been waiting in a nursing home, requiring round-the-clock medical assistance to keep her disease under control.

When Lucy came to Modest Needs this spring, she had been abandoned by most of her family and had lost her job, insurance, and savings. Even the tiny sum she received monthly from social security disability was being swallowed up by the nursing home to cover a portion of her medical costs. But the good news was that, thanks to her unwavering determination, Lucy had improved enough that she could be discharged. As you might imagine, she was positively bursting with excitement at the prospect of simply going home.

Right around the same time came another windfall. After 5 YEARS on the waiting list for public housing, Lucy's number finally came up. She had 70 days to move into an apartment being held for her. There was just one problem, and it was sizable: Lucy didn't have a dollar to her name. No security deposit for the apartment. No first month's rent. Nothing. How could she have saved any money if the nursing home had seized all of it? In fact, she was on the verge of personal bankruptcy.

In her desperate efforts to make the move possible, Lucy sought help from several local agencies. Eventually she came to Modest Needs, the final name on her list. Because the nursing home didn't make a computer available for patient use, Lucy would go to great lengths to submit her application. Her 70 days were running out. You were her very last hope.

'No one should have to experience life in a nursing home,' she remarked. 'The people there need healing and tranquility and quiet, and instead we are warehoused as patients, two and three people in one room. You learn to be your own advocate very quickly. The conditions are appalling. If I could give you one piece of advice, it would be to plan your finances so that you never have to resort to a nursing home.'

Because the nursing home where Lucy was living didn't have anything approaching Internet access, Lucy made the trek to her local Kinko's. She knew that Internet usage ran $24/hour there, but she felt compelled to take the risk. As it turned out, three of the four Kinko's computers were broken. The one working machine was occupied. And in what Lucy called 'divine intervention,' the manager there offered her the use of his computer, for free, when he found out why Lucy needed to use a computer. To her, it was a sure sign that things would ultimately work out.

And work out they did. Lucy scraped together the money for her apartment using a loan from a friend and one last credit card, but she didn't have anything left over to transport the few belongings she'd left languishing in storage. Within 36 hours of uploading her application, Modest Needs donors came through with $750 for a moving truck, and Lucy was finally on her way home.

I think that brings us back to where I started: on the phone with Lucy as she sat on the twin bed her niece had provided, covered in lesions, and absolutely ecstatic. She'd made it into public housing with only a few hours to spare in her 70-day window. The moving truck you covered would be bringing the remainder of her possessions the following day. And Lucy was expecting her first delivery of groceries any moment. 'I've endured absolutely terrible food for years. I haven't had a decent meal since 2005!'

Lucy recognizes that pemphigus will plague her for the rest of her life. But imagine the difference between recuperating in the comfort of your own home, or in the wretched atmosphere of a jam-packed nursing home. For the first time in ages, she has plans for the future -- specifically, to start up a home-based online business, and to lose the weight she gained from all those steroids.

'I wouldn't have been able to do it without Modest Needs,' she said. 'But just as important as helping me secure my belongings, you enabled me a sense of poise and dignity. As far as I'm concerned, the work you do is sacred.'

When I asked Lucy how she has managed to overcome so many obstacles -- physical as well as financial -- her answer resonated with me on many levels. 'Piece by piece,' she remarked, simply. 'One at a time.'

In that way, Lucy's story perfectly exemplifies the journey of Modest Needs. Our community has funded applicants in much the same manner as she regained her health -- 'piece by piece' -- with $5 and $10 donations building one on top of the other to fund one application, and then two, and then three, then hundreds, and now - thousands.

Lucy's resolve and resourcefulness will continue to inspire me as we move forward. But no less inspiring are you, the individuals whose good deeds and small donations have rescued her from this nursing home. So thank you, from me and from Lucy and from the many thousands of other people whose lives are transformed daily through your own courageous generosity.

5,000 grants down. An infinite number still to go.

The James Bond Chair

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

In 1992, Robi's life was forever changed when she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS). She was only in her early thirties at the time, with a 2-year-old son, when her nerves started waging war on her body. And ever since, for the past 15 years, she has lived with increasing levels of pain.

In bed, if her husband's foot brushes against hers, the pain can bring her to tears. She relies on a wheelchair or walker to get around. The disease has infiltrated her auditory nerves and taken some of her hearing. The agony of sitting in a straight-backed chair can leave her almost unable to function.

But Robi has an unmistakable fighting spirit. She talks about the challenges of MS in strong, serious terms. And in between she interjects lighthearted anecdotes and cracks jokes, with a 'grin and bear it' attitude that would put most people (including me) to shame.

Robi has learned to live with her pain. But what she can't live with is the idea that MS is taking away precious time with her family.

And that's why Robi came to Modest Needs.

It couldn't have been a simpler request: a chair. A chair to let her sit and enjoy her family in the evenings. A chair to alleviate her pain. A chair that cost $762.

While her husband, Mike, and two children -- Mark, 18, and Madison, 11 -- watched TV in the living room every evening, Robi sat in a decrepit old recliner, suffering unimaginable pain just to remain in the same room with her family. As her MS advanced this year, she found that she could only manage about an hour in the chair, at which point she'd retire upstairs. Often, her children felt so guilty that they'd stop watching TV themselves to come be with her.

Not only was Robi's old recliner uncomfortable, it was also unsafe. Once in the chair, Robi couldn't hoist herself out without the help of her husband or son. There was nowhere to sit while the family was out for the day. 'There's so much wrong with my body that I get dizzy just standing up from a chair,' she remarked.

What Robi desperately needed was a chair designed specifically to take stress off her body, improve her circulation, and, most important, lift her safely from a sitting position to a standing one.

So Robi applied to Modest Needs. But she certainly didn't harbor high hopes.

You see, for years Robi has been let down by the system, by agencies, even by MS organizations. Most notably, she sunk $17,000 into legal fees while trying to adopt her daughter Madison, who at the time was a toddler who'd been abused, raped, and living on the streets. Social workers and the courts told Robi again and again that she couldn't adopt Madison due to her MS.

But -- and here's that warrior spirit again -- Robi studied up on the law and walked away with custody after a long and tedious fight. The adoption would inflict a financial strain that the family would wrestle with for years afterward. Still, Robi says without hesitation, the money was more than worth it.

After experiences like these, however, Robi felt jaded. 'I've gotten very cynical,' she says. 'It's hard to believe that anyone cares. That anyone would help.'

But people did care. Modest Needs donors, specifically. And Robi's application for that $762 chair was funded this June.

When the new chair arrived last week to her home in Utah, Robi was in tears. She had been convinced that she wouldn't receive enough to cover the full cost, or that something would go wrong. 'How can I adequately thank all these people I don't even know, who've helped me spend more time with the people I love?' she asked.

'Now I'll be able to sit at night with my family without pain. I won't have to be afraid of getting stuck in the chair or falling down anymore. Knowing that people care... It's one of the greatest things that's ever happened to me.'

This coming weekend, when it's blisteringly hot out in Utah, the foursome are planning to rent a movie and eat popcorn at home while Robi enjoys what her teenage son has dubbed the 'James Bond' chair. 'He says he's going to 'eject' me,' she says, chuckling.

Madison and Mark have grown up with Robi's MS. They understand that she can't do all the things other mothers can. Mark chose to pursue bowling rather than baseball because his mom couldn't stand the extreme heat to watch his games. (And he's now on a college bowling scholarship.)

There have been so many difficult conversations with 11-year-old Madison: Robi explaining what to do when Mom doesn't come to the door, or if she's lying on the ground when Madison comes home from school.

But now there's one less conversation she has to have. Nobody has to worry about what to do when Mom can't get out of her chair.

Because now - thanks to you - she can.

One Tooth Fixed; Many Lives Saved

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of speaking to an amazing Modest Needs applicant named Kathie. It was one of the most difficult and emotional conversations I can remember, if also one of the most rewarding. Difficult because Kathie's story -- specifically, the suicide of her 15-year-old daughter -- was so heart-breaking, with the pain coming across in every sentence she spoke. Rewarding because I was so proud that our Loews donors had stepped in to help such an extraordinary woman, a woman who has found the strength to transform her overwhelming grief into a public service, educating parents and children about suicide prevention.

All we gave Kathie was $800 for some dental work. Today, she's returning the favor to society in an exponentially larger way.

Seven years after her daughter Chrissie's tragic death, Kathie still has trouble speaking about it without breaking down. As she recounted to me, the day Chrissie died was just like any other weekday. Chrissie had called her mom to say she'd gotten home safely. Her father was at the house. Kathie told her to grab a bite to eat, and that she'd be home shortly. And so it was an absolute shock when Kathie pulled up to the house later that afternoon to find her husband screaming in the front yard that Chrissie had hung herself, and begging Kathie not to go inside.

The family was, understandably, devastated... but also incredibly baffled. Chrissie had been an honor-roll student. She was only 15 years old. But what neither parent knew at time was that, silently, Chrissie had been fighting a multiple personality disorder. They'd only learned the truth after discovering the journals that Chrissie had been keeping as part of her anorexia/bulimia therapy. Her parents read in shock as five different personalities manifested themselves in this journal, each with a completely different type of handwriting, and one with a disturbingly violent streak determined to do harm to Chrissie.

Immediately Kathie went online and started talking to her daughter's friends and their parents, trying to make sense of Chrissie's illness and her death. She learned as much as she could about the warning signs associated with suicide and the ways to intervene before things got too bad. She joined several online suicide bereavement groups. Gradually, over months and then years, Kathie became a sort of community expert on suicide prevention. Parents concerned about their own children began to seek out her counsel. She spoke regularly in her community about suicide -- to parents, grandparents, high-schoolers, and children as young as 8 years old.

'Even in grade-school, kids are desperate to be so perfect,' Kathie explained. 'I let them know what to look for... if their friends get really quiet all-of-a-sudden, let's say.' Furthermore, Kathie has maintained dozens of relationships with troubled teens online, all in an effort to make sure no other parent will suffer through what she has had to endure.

'Teenagers think that they're invincible. They think their parents care more about their brother or sister. Or that because their parents are strict, they don't love them. I try to let them know that's the furthest thing from the truth.' Often, Kathie said, she'll look around the room after a speaking engagement to see kids and their parents alike crying. Her goal is to just get them talking about the issue.

'For 2 years, all I could think about was, 'Why my daughter?'' she remarked. 'Then I realized that I'd never get Chrissie back. And the question has since become, 'What can I do?''

When Kathie cracked a tooth earlier this year, her suicide prevention speaking engagements suddenly became impossible. With no front tooth, her audience couldn't make out what she was saying at all. And the dentist's bill presented a serious financial challenge - $800. This, for a family who, since Chrissie's death, had lived off only about $900 a month in total.

'We've been through lots of financial setbacks,' Kathie tells me. First, there had been a hefty $1,300 funeral bill. Then, unexpectedly, Kathie lost her job. A career nanny and the breadwinner of the family (her husband is disabled), Kathie had requested a few days off around Chrissie's death from the family she'd served for many years. They'd obliged, but then told her not to bother coming back. Around the same time, Kathie's grandson was born with a serious heart defect, and she stepped in to provide childcare when her older daughter couldn't afford it.

Shortly thereafter, Kathie's own health began to deteriorate. Her asthma had morphed into chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, requiring oxygen around the clock. Chasing around after a roomful of toddlers was no longer an option. And so, at the time of Kathie's dental issues, the family's only income came from social security and a disability check.

If her application was simply for a new front tooth, that would have been enough. But in light of her activism work, Kathie's application became so much more important. It's no wonder that Loews donors responded so quickly to fund her request.

Today, Kathie is not only back on the speaking circuit in her community; she also organizes an annual run in Chrissie's memory and operates a scholarship fund. 'Kids have emailed me to say that they were considering suicide until they heard Chrissie's story, which changed their minds. That kind of thing makes it all worth it.'

And as if her work with suicide prevention isn't enough, Kathie has recently signed up as a monthly Modest Needs donor as well -- even on that very tight $900 monthly budget.

'The Modest Needs grant has made such a difference in my life,' she remarked. 'Suicide is a subject I never wanted to know anything about. And speaking about it doesn't take away the pain. Nothing will ever take that away. But it eases it. And if I can prevent it from happening to another family, then that's what I need to do.'

Seeing the World from Rock Bottom

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

As Keira approached the entrance to her town Wal-Mart recently, she was stunned when a local charity representative started asking her for money. At first, she didn't know how to react. Her family had been living off rice and Ramen Noodles for a month, buying $1 bags of vegetables for dinner. The pantry was almost totally empty, and she'd spent an evening explaining to her 10-year-old brother that they needed to devote money to food instead of Christmas gifts this year.

And suddenly, in the midst of her frustration, Keira remembered how, just a few short years ago, she'd been on the other end of that exchange -- donating, volunteering, giving.

How the times had changed.

Keira is 25 years old. She's college-educated. Her family has never once resorted to government aid. But when she came to Modest Needs this autumn, things were, in Keira's words, 'totally falling apart.'

Kiera and her family had made ends meet without any major issues until 2 years ago, when Keira's mother Agnes was hit by a car while on a crosswalk at her son's elementary school. Previously, her mother had provided a good portion of the family's income as a manager at Wal-Mart. But the hit-and-run accident had seriously injured her leg, and had since caused a condition called Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy, a chronic and painful complication affecting skin, muscles, joints, and bones.

Today, Keira's mother suffers from so much nerve damage that she can't even write her own name. She'll never be able to work again. And yet she still hasn't been approved for any formal disability income through social security.

As such, Keira, who is only 25 years old, became the family breadwinner almost overnight. She admitted that it has been a difficult and sometimes frustrating role -- and a heavy responsibility. But they're a close-knit family, and there's nothing she wouldn't do for them. Even at a very young age, Keira has got her life in perspective:

'Deep down, family is all that matters,' she remarked. 'When you die, you can't take the money with you. You can only take the love you have for your family.'

And that love is seeing her through some incredibly difficult news: that she almost certainly has Multiple Sclerosis.

Keira's brave and hopeful outlook was first put to the test this July, when complications from a spinal tap required surgery that left her laid up in the hospital for a few days and unable to work for 2 weeks. It was a substantial wage loss that turned devastating. Suddenly, putting food on the table became an incredible challenge for her, especially since no agencies in her area were equipped to help out families living just a few rungs above the poverty line.

'When I found out about Modest Needs, I saw it could provide exactly what we needed -- just a little push,' Keira began. 'But I felt a little embarrassed to apply, like I was begging for money. In the end, I swallowed my pride for my family.'

The 'embarrassment' Keira mentions isn't an unusual response; lots of hardworking applicants express some form of guilt over asking for help. But it's heart-wrenching to hear it from Keira, a young woman who has done everything right, who shoulders her family's financial responsibility with grace and resilience despite her own medical issues.

When the Modest Needs community responded to her application with a resounding 'help her!,' Keira felt a kind of relief she never expected. She jumped up and down in celebration. The $650 rent payment was all they needed to catch up from those days she'd missed work. The knots in Keira's stomach disappeared. She went grocery shopping.

And, according to Keira, her mother, who 'never ever cries,' broke down in tears.

'For once, after all the rotten stuff that has happened, it felt like God was smiling down on us,' she said.

Keira and her family clearly still face an uncertain future. But by giving them a 'modest' $650, you've shown them a kindness that has re-energized them -- financially and emotionally -- just in time for the holidayss

And today, Keira's doing everything she can to maintain the positive momentum. In fact, despite the physical challenges that lie ahead, she's planning to start law school shortly.

'I don't think we could be more appreciative,' she told me in closing. 'I feel so, so lucky. You see the world a lot differently from rock bottom.'

But rock bottom isn't where she is anymore. And that's all thanks to you.

About a Boy . . .

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

They say that money can't buy you love. But what if it could buy you friends? Or more specifically, the ability to make friends?

Brandon is in the 7th grade, at the point where friendships and cliques and puberty collide to make for that most awkward and stressful of times: adolescence. And if you think your middle-school years were tough, try a morning in Brandon's shoes. Because this 12-year-old has Asperger's Syndrome, a form of highly-functioning autism characterized by a severe lack of social skills.

Brandon can barely carry on a conversation with his classmates. He doesn't have any friends at school. But with the right therapy, he might. And you've given this very special boy that chance, for only $350.

As his mother Gabriella explains to me, Brandon's daily life is much more complicated than the average child. He gets so caught up in small details -- organizing pencils, let's say -- that he needs a teacher's aide to help him get to his locker and off to the next class. He can recite an A+ essay out loud, but his brain can't make the connection for him to write it. If he does try to write, he's such a perfectionist that he ends up wearing the eraser down to a tiny stub, until it actually rips through the paper.

Academically, his school and insurance company provide for lots of extra educational resources, including a one-on-one student aid. But as for his social life . . . there, Brandon is on his own. His insurance company doesn't deem it necessary to give him the tools to interact with people.

Of course, the insurance company isn't there to see Brandon fumbling through very basic social situations, incapable of understanding metaphors or sarcasm or jokes. They're not around to watch him sitting on his own while the other kids congregate in groups. They're not there, like his mother is, when he arrives home from school every afternoon feeling incredibly alone and needing to wrap up in a therapeutic 'body sock' in order to wind down.

'Brandon's at the age where he's starting to notice that all the other kids have friends except for him,' Gabriella tells me. He can see that he's different from the other kids. That's very scary for Gabriella, who explains that Asperger's kids have high instances of depression and even suicide. And no wonder.

Brandon was only 4 years old when Gabriella first started feeling as if something about him was 'off.' It took years -- not until Brandon was in 4th grade, in fact -- for doctors to diagnose his condition. His teachers used to assume he was just lazy, when he would get so frustrated that tears would start pouring down his face upon being asked a question in class.

Once the diagnosis was confirmed, Gabriella dove head-first into the literature, reading everything she could get her hands on regarding Asperger's. Since then, she has become somewhat of an Asperger's expert, and has also become acutely aware of the financial strain Asperger's can cause. She invests more in sheets and clothes than most mothers, simply because Brandon's brain gets so focused that he forgets to go to the bathroom until it's too late. She needs to be able to take off work at a moment's notice to get over to his school with a change of clothes on a daily basis.

And then, of course, there are the treatments that her insurance company rejects.

Last summer, for instance, Brandon attended a camp specializing in social-skills-building for Asperger's kids. It made a tremendous difference in the way he interacted with other children. This camp taught him how to handle social nuances we take for granted, like greeting another student in the hallway. When he came home from camp, Brandon even asked his mom 'what she wanted to do together.' Gabriella was flabbergasted and thrilled. As far back as she could remember, Brandon had never expressed any specific interest in social activity.

Naturally, when Gabriella heard about another Asperger's social skills class starting up with the same instructor, she jumped at the chance to sign him up. The timing was perfect; Brandon was having an incredibly hard time in his new school, and it was obvious that his social skills were the major hurdle. But the class carried a hefty $350 registration fee. And that money seemed worlds away to Gabriella, a single parent who'd just left her job as the director of a women's shelter to run a mentoring program. If she'd had more time, she could have saved up for it. But the Asperger's class was starting within a few weeks.

When Gabriella's insurance denied her request for assistance, she reached out to several local agencies seeking help. She wasn't about to sit by while her son's condition kept him from enjoying a rich, fulfilling life. Despite her continued efforts, the $350 escaped her, and she was starting to lose hope. That's just when a friend -- a fellow parent of a child with Asperger's Syndrome -- recommended Modest Needs, explaining that we'd funded a request of hers a couple of months back.

After only a few weeks, Modest Needs donors came through with the $350. Brandon would be able to attend the class after all. 'It was such a relief,' Gabriella recalls. 'I just wanted him to be able to go so badly... I can't thank your donors enough.'

When I last spoke to Gabriella, the class was about to start up, and she and Brandon had made a visit to the facility to prepare him for what to expect. He was apprehensive about entering a new situation, but Gabriella was completely confident. It would be a place where, for at least a short time, Brandon could feel like he fit in. And if he stood any chance of making friends in the future, this was a crucial first step in the process.

'Brandon's such a loveable kid,' Gabriella remarked. 'The aids at school adore him. He'll tell you in the most elegant language possible how your hair is shiny and beautiful like the golden sun. He might go on and on about how much he loves your shirt. But on the playground... he's just clueless.'

I'm hoping that's not the case for long. Imagine life without the ties that bind us together. Imagine feeling like an outsider for all of your days. It's a fate that no one should experience -- and certainly not an adolescent.

With the proliferation of autism-related diseases surfacing within the past 10 years, it's astounding and disheartening to me to realize that insurance companies don't recognize that social disorders require therapy every bit as much as a physical injury might. (What's more basic and important in life than the ability to relate to other people?) But until they do, I'm proud to say that we'll continue doing what we can to give these kids a chance at an emotionally rewarding life.

'As parents, we all want our children to be successful,' Gabriella remarked. 'And I don't mean just academically or financially. I just want him to have a partner, good friends. Relationships are what make life wonderful. He shouldn't miss out on that.'

And thanks to your generosity, he won't.

The Long Road Home

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

It has been almost a year since Anna's 18-year-old daughter Melissa suffered third-degree burns to both her hands. A year of physical trauma, emotional struggle, and financial turmoil. Anna tells me that she and her family are stronger for it, and that the experience has shown her the strength of her daughter's convictions.

But without your help, she doesn't know where they'd be right now.

It all started last fall. Melissa was in her senior year of high school in upstate New York, considering a career in the culinary arts. One day, while learning to make hard candy in a cooking class, she badly burned both her hands and wrists with boiling-hot sugar syrup. After being rushed to the emergency room via ambulance, doctors dressed her wounds but underestimated their severity. At the time, no one realized how deep her injuries had gone.

Anna has since become quite well-versed in the lingo of burns. First degree, she tells me, is indicated by redness. Second-degree is more serious, and shows blistering. Third degree actually burns beneath the nerve endings of the skin. It's as bad as a burn can get. And that's what doctors should have seen when Melissa arrived at the emergency room and mentioned that she wasn't in a huge amount of pain.

After the incident, Melissa missed a few weeks of school, and Anna spent her days attending to her daughter's wounds. Luckily, Anna's husband, a bricklayer by trade, had insurance covering about 80% of Melissa's medical bills. It didn't do much to offset the host of supplies Melissa needed, however: gauze, prescriptions, saline, and more.

When Melissa's hands finally started to heal, the family assumed that the worst was behind them.

Little did they know it hadn't even started.

This past February, 4 months after the accident, Melissa's blisters resurfaced -- a sure sign that her skin wasn't recovering as well as doctors had hoped. As it turned out, because the burns were third-degree, Melissa's affected skin was essentially unsalvageable, ruined. For her hands to heal properly, she would require a complex skin grafting surgery that would remove the damaged skin and re-apply new. The family physician referred Melissa to a specialty burn clinic in Vermont, almost 200 miles away, for the procedure.

Within the next 6 months, Anna and Melissa would come to know this burn clinic extremely well. First came the surgery, for which Melissa was confined to the hospital for 5 days on massive pain medication, and hooked up to a 'wound vacuum' that encouraged the new skin to adhere. While there, this teenager would learn to lose all modesty; without the use of her hands, she was completely dependent on help from other people, even to complete the most personal of tasks.

Anna raved to me about the burn clinic in Vermont -- the cutting-edge technology, the caring doctors and nurses. She was incredibly grateful when Melissa's skin graft was successful. Albeit incredibly expensive.

The surgery alone cost an astounding $17,000.

Then, for months afterward, Melissa and her mother would make the 200-mile drive to the burn clinic for follow-ups -- twice a week at first, then weekly, and now every few weeks. 'With gas at $3 a gallon, motels to stay overnight, food stops along the way... it was amazingly expensive,' she admitted. Anna's husband could only take limited time off, since he didn't have the luxury of paid sick or vacation days. As an added expense, Melissa also needed home care during a few particularly grueling phases of the healing process.

Saddled with these numerous trips to Vermont, it didn't take long for Anna to max out the credit cards and fall behind on everything aside from their insurance payments. Desperate to make ends meet, she accepted money from every family member who offered: her older daughters, her parents, her husband's parents. Her husband, she claimed, is the kind of person who'll give money to anyone who asks. But this was his first experience on the receiving end.

'We'd always lived modestly,' Anna remarked. In fact, to reduce their consumption of costly fuel oil -- necessary for hot water and cooking gas in addition to heat -- the family had historically heated their home using primarily wood. This spring, however, due to her oil company accidentally giving them more fuel oil than they were used to, Anna's bill soared to $707, right at the height of their financial struggles.

The oil company was adamant: no more deliveries until the $707 bill was paid. For Anna, the idea of losing her hot water and ability to cook for her family was heartbreaking. She was a caretaker by nature. She'd raised 4 daughters, and now watched her 15-month-old grandson on a regular basis. She couldn't imagine having to go without hot water and gas. But she also couldn't imagine where she'd get the money, either.

Until she found Modest Needs.

Anna had already been turned away from a bevy of local agencies when she happened upon our website one evening. Skeptical, she applied nonetheless. And within 2 or 3 days -- what must be one of the shortest turnaround times in our history -- Anna received a note telling her that her $707 application had been funded. 'I probably never would have come to Modest Needs if it were just my husband and me. But when you have children, you'll do anything to take care of them,' she said.

And Modest Needs didn't just pay off that one bill that was plaguing her; we served as a stepping stone to further assistance as well. Through our website, Anna learned about an agency offering subsidies specifically for the families of burned children. Fortunately, she managed to secure hundreds more dollars in gas cards and travel expenses to go toward all those long-distance trips to the burn center.

There are so many wonderful parts of Anna's and Melissa's story. First off, I am inspired and delighted by the fact that you, our community, responded so swiftly to this deserving family's $707 request.

And when I imagine myself as a teenager -- immature, insecure, dramatic -- the idea of Melissa facing her injuries with such bravery and grace becomes that much more astounding.

As for Anna... Not until we get to the end of our conversation do I realize that Anna has not complained once while telling me the story of her daughter's accident. In my mind, there seems to be a lot to complain about: the oil company's mistake, the pain her daughter has had to go through, the missed diagnosis when Melissa first arrived at the hospital, the relentless accumulation of bills, the scars that exist today on her daughter's hands. But Anna doesn't complain. Not once.

Anna's fiscal recovery will be a long, arduous process -- not unlike Melissa's physical recuperation. But with the fuel oil bill off their shoulders, the mortgage and medical bills feel somewhat less overwhelming. Anna admits that the approaching winter season is a source of some concern, what with rising fuel costs and fewer hours for her husband during the very cold months. But she's confident that this year will be nothing like last.

And that the worst really is behind them now.

'Emotionally, we're so much stronger,' she said. 'I hope that the donors realize that every little penny helped us. To some people, a few hundred dollars is nothing -- a drop in the bucket. To us, it was absolutely everything.'

A Trailer: $699.00. Saving four lives? Priceless.

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Fear is no stranger to the vast majority of our applicants. Fear of losing their jobs, their homes. Fear of their children going hungry, or their health deteriorating due to a financial crisis.

But very few applicants experience the kind of paralyzing, physical fear that Suzanne, a mother of three, has had to face.

When Suzanne applied to Modest Needs a few months ago, she feared for her own safety, and the safety of her three children: 7-year-old KC, 11-year-old Angela, and 13-year-old Stephanie. The children's father, an angry, out-of-control alcoholic who'd been physically abusive towards them more times than Suzanne could count, was scheduled to be released from prison any day. She was petrified of being home when he got out. And she had no friends or family to turn to for help anywhere in the area.

After being split up from her children's father for 3 1/2 years, Suzanne had come to Minnesota to reunite with him in 2005 when he convinced her that he'd finally stopped drinking. He had been to rehab and cleaned himself up, he claimed. She was hopeful that they could all live as a family again. But shortly after her arrival, it was quite clear that this man was far from sober.

'He drank from morning until night,' she said. 'It was so bad that when he dropped the kids off at school, they'd be tripping over beer bottles as they got out of the car.' His drinking had once even caused a head-on collision, and significant injury to another family.

But the most serious issue was the violence. And, according to Suzanne, its toxic effect on her children.

One time, for example, their father was leaning over Suzanne on the couch, choking her, when 13-year-old Stephanie intervened by throwing something at him. Furious, he punched a massive hole in the wall.

The children themselves weren't spared the abuse, either. 'He would just wait for KC to come home from school so that he could spank him, and worse,' Suzanne said. She remembers once cowering away in a back room with little KC while his father raged. KC sadly confided to his mother that he'd only ever seen pictures of his dad. He never realized 'that he was so mean.'

The abuse was constant, and Suzanne felt far too frightened to contact the authorities. It was, as she put it, 'a nightmare, a living hell.'

That is, until May 11, the night when her children's father was arrested not only for DUI, but also for trying to outrun the police and resisting arrest. Almost a dozen police cars congregated in their front yard, but Suzanne was anything but embarrassed. 'It was what I'd prayed for,' she admitted. 'Him going to jail was the only way I could see myself getting out of this mess.'

Three weeks later, with the children's father in jail, Suzanne had successfully landed an accounting job, started repairs on her family's car, and obtained a rental to drive in the meantime. Even more importantly, she was frantically making plans to move her family back home to the Southwest. It was a race to save up enough cash to leave Minnesota before he was released from prison.

The only problem was, of course... money.

She'd essentially been financially abandoned when he'd gone to jail, with his dilapidated truck requiring so much work that Suzanne's paycheck was garnished heavily every month to pay back close to $5,000 in repairs.

And that's when you stepped in to help - just in the nick of time.

When Suzanne applied to Modest Needs for $699, the cost of a small trailer to carry her family's personal belongings on the 4-day drive from Minnesota to Arizona, the clock was already ticking. She'd sold everything of value that she owned. It would be only days before her children's father would be released. She worried incessantly. He repeatedly threatened her over the phone and warned her not to leave.

'I just can't imagine what he would have done had we been there when he got home,' she said.

Modest Needs was Suzanne's only hope - her only ticket out.

As such, she found herself glued to our website, checking the status of her application two and three times a day. And on one fateful lunch-break, she saw it: the smiley-face icon to designate that her application had been funded.

It had been only 3 weeks since she'd submitted her application. Ecstatic, she broke down in tears right there in the office. And by August 21st, she and her family were on the road, heading far, far away from the man who'd been terrorizing them for almost 2 years.

Today, Suzanne and her three kids are staying with Suzanne's sister in Tucson, looking for a place of their own. Suzanne's close to finding work -- 'Tucson is full of opportunity,' she tells me -- and all three kids are settling well into a new school.

Suzanne has never been so thankful or so relieved. Eleven-year-old Angela even admitted recently, 'we're better off without dad.'

Suzanne's story made me grateful for so many things -- but perhaps most of all that our community was able to step in as a support system where one didn't exist.

Modest Needs' donors may very well have saved Suzanne's life, not to mention the lives of her children. Thanks to you, for the first time in years, Suzanne has hope. She's not afraid.

And as for her children, I know that you've reminded them that, as cruel as their father might be, kindness and caring live on in abundance in the arms of each of you - the strangers who probably saved their lives.

One Father's Story

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

The day I spoke to Steve on the phone, he was doing what thousands of fathers all around the U.S. were doing: gearing up for a Labor Day barbecue. But Steve's family party wasn't just about grilling hamburgers and hot dogs, and celebrating a day off from work. It was about celebrating life -- Steve's 32-year-young life -- as he prepared to undergo major surgery to carve out the cancer that had plagued him since 2005. It was about looking toward a brighter future in the midst of a very tenuous present.

Steve has been living with cancer for 3 years. During that time, incredibly intense rounds of chemotherapy have brutalized his body. They've left his immune system in shreds, compromised to the point that he had to be quarantined, and that a tiny ingrown hair once caused a massive staph infection. In another instance, he missed a day of medication and became so sick that he almost blacked out. But despite Steve's resilience and optimism, chemotherapy has proven unsuccessful. What originated as testicular cancer has metastasized into multiple tumors throughout his stomach area. And surgery is now Steve's best hope for recovery.

According to Steve, chemo hasn't been the worst part about cancer; watching his family deal with the uncertainly has been. Comforting his children when they worried he wouldn't be around the next day. Of particular concern is Steve's 12-year-old son, whose mother died 5 years ago, and his fiancee's two children, ages 11 and 14. Oftentimes the kids cry, and when Steve asks them why, they shake it off and say it's nothing.

'If you're the one who's sick, you're the one who has to be strong,' he remarked. 'You've got to act like nothing is wrong.'

In Steve's case, the inevitable financial challenges posed by his cancer pale in comparison to the more formidable objective -- just sticking around to watch his children grow up. But they exist nonetheless, and the financial burdens only make his recovery that much more arduous. Steve doesn't have insurance. He relies upon Medicaid to cover the bulk of his medical bills. But when he's unable to work -- during chemo and other cancer treatments, for example -- there's no disability check.

There's nothing.

'I love to work. I love my job,' said Steve, an electrician by trade. 'I know what it's like not to be able to work or feed your kids. When you have chemo, you can't even get a scratch. You're stuck in your house. I'm so happy to go to work. But working isn't the issue now. Getting paid is the issue.'

When Steve's only family car broke down earlier this summer, with a hefty $865 repair bill, it became one more immense stress on top of all of the medical concerns. It was a car he'd used to travel to the hospital, to take the kids to school, and to get to work when doctors cleared him to do so. He and his fiancee, Shelley, were making do, cutting back to pay the bills, but this $865 was just too much.

Steve was adamant that Shelley stay in school to become a paralegal. 'She's super-smart,' he gushed. And, perhaps more gravely, 'I want her to do as well as she can. She'll be the one to provide for the kids if something happens to me.'

Shelley, who Steve affectionately calls his 'computer geek,' was the one who found Modest Needs' website during this very difficult time. And just weeks later, thanks to your generosity, Modest Needs was able to fund this family's application.

Like so many applicants, Steve couldn't believe it when the grant came through. 'I come from a place where you're on your own,' he said. 'Three years ago, I started to see a completely different world, where people are willing to help each other out. And it has really changed my relationship with my own family -- the power of that kindness. It's hard to convey unless you're with someone face-to-face, but we're just so, so thankful.'

Now, with the car fixed, Steve and his family can focus on the bigger picture: getting him better, and spending as much time as possible together. In a few days' time, he'll be taking that newly-repaired car to the hospital in Gainesville, Florida, for an incision that will stretch from his belt line to his sternum, designed to cut out his lymph nodes and the cancer that accompanies them. With luck, this surgery will eradicate the cancer forever, and Steve will be driving back to work in about 2 months.

But thanks to the kindness of the Modest Needs community, Shelley and the kids will be with him at the hospital, just in case something goes wrong.

'It's funny,' Steve remarked. 'The little things that used to bother me just don't matter anymore. If the kids leave their dirty clothes all over the house, I'm like 'who cares?' I don't take things for granted. I'm just going to love my family and hug them as much as I can. What else can I do?'

Well, I know what else Steve can do. Thanks to your courageous generosity, he can live a long, happy and healthy life, surrounded by people who care about him.

And you're right, Steve. That's a gift that no one should take for granted.

Losing a Job, but Not a Home

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Purchasing a house of their own had been one of Dave and Jill's proudest accomplishments. It hadn't been easy, affording this home they've lived in for 9 years on Dave's modest salary. But it was comfortable, and it was theirs. And most important of all, it gave them enough space to live as a family, with their teenage daughter, Courtney, and Jill's ailing mother.

So imagine their horror when this spring, they thought they might lose that home, all due to a measly $672.

The problem started, like so many other Modest Needs applicants, when Dave lost his job.

Since the age of 18, for almost 20 years, Dave had been employed as a 'straightener' at a local metal casting factory -- grueling, physical work that was slowly breaking down his dominant arm as he hammered metal into shape day in and day out. Over the course of his time there, Dave was injured five times, suffering through multiple surgeries. But he always went back, no matter the pain, to keep a paycheck coming in.

When Dave was injured most recently this past January, he reported to the factory's doctor, who cleared him for work immediately even though he couldn't even lift a hammer. Then, when the pain became too much to handle, Dave saw another doctor who told him that he had carpal tunnel syndrome along with serious nerve damage in his elbow. And so followed another surgery.

Except that this time, going back to work as a straightener afterward wasn't an option.

After his surgery, the doctor prohibited Dave from lifting anything over 10 lbs -- or 5lbs repetitively -- and warned him that further stress could make his nerve damage permanent. His arm was, as his wife Jill put it, 'ruined.' Dave hoped for a different job at the factory, one that wouldn't put so much strain on his dominant arm. But management couldn't, or wouldn't, find a place for him. And so with the deterioration of his arm came the deterioration of his family's financial health as well.

Jill came to Modest Needs during an incredibly difficult time; Dave's disability benefits hadn't yet kicked in, but he wasn't receiving a paycheck anymore, either. She read through other Modest Needs applications and felt guilty asking for the money, when so many other people needed it. But when their $672 real estate tax bill arrived, Jill became desperate. If they didn't make the payment soon, their beloved home would go into foreclosure. Even worse, the family would have to split up.

'If we'd lost the house, it would have been nearly impossible to find an apartment to accommodate my mother, who struggles with diabetes, heart disease, and neuropathy,' Jill said. Recently her mother had suffered a heart attack, and luckily Jill had been home to get her to the hospital in time. 'If she'd been living somewhere else, alone, who knows what could have happened.'

Once again, Modest Needs donors came through. And within a few weeks of their application, Dave and Jill's threat of foreclosure -- and their family's imminent separation -- was no longer.

'I was just so thankful,' Jill remarked. 'It would have changed everything if we'd lost the house.'

Despite a challenging road ahead for the family -- it's never easy to recover when an unexpected disability robs the primary earner of an essential skill -- the $672 Modest Needs grant has set in motion a series of forward-looking life changes. Dave has applied to become a bus driver this fall. Jill also hopes to land a position as a teacher's aide at her local Head Start program.

The threat of losing their house probably isn't the only financial burden that Dave and Jill will face this year. Their daughter, a senior in high school, understands the gravity of their financial situation, but has a normal teenager's wants and needs: back-to-school clothes, senior prom, senior pictures. Jill's aging mother continues to battle serious health problems.

But now, thanks to the kindness of Modest Needs donors, they've gotten through the worse of it. They'll be comforted with the knowledge that there are people out there who are willing to lend a hand when you're in your darkest hour.

And most importantly, they'll be prepared to face any new challenges that come their way, because they'll be together.

Healing Heads - and Hearts

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

When Niccole got the call from Modest Needs with news that her application had been funded, she didn't even make it out of her cubicle before bursting into tears. But for a change, these were tears of joy. Tears of relief from a mother who'd been watching, helpless, as her insurance company had refused to help her little boy in need.

The trouble started this past April, when Niccole's then 4-month-old son was diagnosed with Plagiocephaly, a deformity of the skull caused by sleeping too often on his back. With his diagnosis, Niccole had become wracked with guilt. As a first-time mom, she had never been informed that her son's sleeping position could wreak such havoc on his little skull, and in fact had always been told to lay babies on their backs to reduce the risk of SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome). Furthermore, because Richard had been such a good-natured baby -- consistently jolly, and an excellent sleeper -- Niccole had never dreamt that there could be a problem.

Fortunately, Richard's condition was treatable, but only if that treatment came immediately. It would simply require him to wear a helmet-like device called a 'DOC band' that would gently re-shape his head before the bones in his skull had the chance to harden completely. But there were two catches: first, the helmet needed to be in place by the time Richard was 1 year old; and second, it cost $2,500.

With 8 months to work with, Niccole confidently approached her insurance company, providing every piece of documentation she could, including a letter of medical necessity from her pediatrician and evidence of the myriad of medical problems that would plague Richard in the future if his head weren't corrected. But to Niccole's shock, her request was denied.

She appealed immediately, submitting further documentation -- everything she could think up. Her employer even contacted the insurer on her behalf. But weeks later, bad news arrived again.

It was what the insurance company termed a 'benefit exclusion.' If Richard had needed the DOC band to recover from surgery, insurance would cover the cost. But not in this case. For all practical purposes, Richard's band had fallen into an insurance loophole. Niccole was infuriated, surprised, and devastated all at once. The stress caused massive friction between Niccole and her husband, and even contributed to their ultimate divorce.

Meanwhile, precious months were creeping by. Richard's skull was growing progressively worse -- flattening in the back, with his ears protruding. And Niccole was sinking further and further into depression, feeling helpless and frustrated. She applied for loans, and a credit card specifically for medical expenses. But like so many Americans, her less-than-stellar credit kept those options out of her reach.

'When you become a mother, your whole focus, your whole life, becomes that baby. I couldn't even concentrate at work. And it was killing me to look at him, this baby who's normal and smart and so happy,' Niccole admits. 'I couldn't bear the thought of kids making fun of him when he was older.'

When we received Niccole's application at Modest Needs, we were flummoxed. The maximum Modest Needs grant is normally $1,000, and Niccole clearly needed $2,500. Not in 6 weeks. But NOW. She had applied asking for $1,200 - the maximum she could request under our floating 'maximum grant' program - with a payment plan to cover the remainder herself. But we couldn't in good conscience stick Niccole with another $1,000 bill after all she'd been through.

Luckily, we stay friendly with a host of other nonprofit organizations whose missions closely align with ours. It didn't take more than 5 minutes to convince one particular foundation to chip in. After hearing Niccole's story, the foundation's only question was, 'How much should I write the check for?'

A few days later, after getting the good news, Niccole was already setting up a fitting for Richard's helmet. If all goes according to plan, his skull should be completely normal by the end of the year.

'I haven't been so happy since Richard was born,' Niccole said. The weight that had been slowly crushing her for months was finally lifted. 'My friends and co-workers can see the difference in me,' she remarked, 'emotionally as well as physically. There's just no way to thank you enough.'

I wish that all of you could spend 2 minutes on the phone with Niccole. If there's such a thing as 'raw' euphoria, Niccole's got it. She told me repeatedly me how grateful she is, how happy, time and time again. I could sense the presence of her wide grin on the other end of the line. And with every sentence, it felt as if she was desperately grasping for the right word to unleash the enormity of her overwhelming thankfulness.

'I'm still not done with my insurance company,' she remarked as we were wrapping up our phone call. 'I'm making one last appeal so that I can get that money and send it back to Modest Needs -- to help someone else.'

Insurance money or not, I tell her, there's really only one thing we would ask for.

A photo of Richard on his first birthday.

The New Sounds of Summer

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

For 3 years, Karen Reeves struggled to give her daughter something we all take for granted: hearing. But not because 8-year-old Rachel, who was diagnosed with hearing loss as a toddler, was beyond medical help.

To the contrary, Karen wasn't haranguing doctors and seeking out new treatments. She was simply fighting to afford a device that would vastly improve the quality of Rachel's daily life.

It wasn't a matter of medicine or technology. It was a matter of money.

At home in Rochester, Rachel's significant hearing loss kept her from fully enjoying the basic activities that kids her age should -- watching television, chatting with friends, going to summer camp. Communicating proved difficult in innumerable ways.

At school, however, it was a different story. There Rachel was lucky enough to have use of an 'FM transmitter.' The two-piece device was simple: Rachel placed the 'receiver' onto her hearing aid, while her teacher spoke into the 'microphone' end. The transmitter amplified her teacher's voice so that Rachel could understand everything clearly.

'If it weren't for the FM transmitter that the school provided, there's no way she would have been enrolled in a mainstream classroom,' Karen said.

Despite the challenges of hearing loss, Rachel excelled at school. She brimmed with creative energy -- not only in visual arts but even in music, where she grew to love the piano. She made loads of friends, most of them with full hearing. Kids routinely passed around her FM transmitter so that they could communicate one-on-one with her.

But for liability reasons, the school wouldn't allow her to take the FM transmitter home. And that's when Karen's crusade to buy one began.

'When Rachel couldn't use the transmitter -- at night, on weekends, and most importantly over the summer -- she regressed,' Karen said. 'In order to produce good speech, she needs to hear good speech 24-hours-a-day. And without the FM transmitter, she wasn't hearing enough good speech at home.'

If Rachel missed hearing one word, whole sentences wouldn't make sense, and then whole conversations. She had a hard time on car rides, at the mall, watching movies.

For years Karen tried desperately to find a way to obtain an FM transmitter for her daughter's home use. She went to hearing loss associations, applied for grants, lobbied her insurance carrier, you name it. At $1,000 per piece, the transmitter was just prohibitively expensive.

About a month ago, Karen applied to Modest Needs not knowing exactly what to expect. Summer vacation was approaching. Three months without use of the FM transmitter would certainly cause Rachel's speech to suffer. Karen had managed to scrape together enough for one piece of the FM transmitter, but still couldn't locate the funds for the essential 'microphone' component.

We certainly weren't surprised when Modest Needs donors gave Karen's application with very high marks. Even though we receive applications like Karen's all the time, it's surprising and disturbing to see how a relatively small amount of money can make such an amazing difference in someone's life.

I mean, really, doesn't $1,000 seem like a tiny price tag for an 8-year-old's hearing and speech development?

Well, the Modest Needs community thought so. And within a few weeks, Karen had received the check she'd been waiting on for 3 years.

'I thought it was just too good to be true,' Karen admits.

Mom and daughter picked up the new FM transmitter on June 29th, and both were flabbergasted by the quality and clarity of the sound. It's even better than the one she uses at school.

'Rachel can hear me, even when she's upstairs,' Karen gushed. 'She can hear me when I whisper into it. She's so excited that she walks around the house, talking to herself!'

Most importantly, though, when Rachel enters third grade in the fall, she'll hit the ground running. And over the summer, she'll be taking her new transmitter to summer camp and on plenty of sleepovers.

Life will be easier for mom, too. 'Having a child with hearing loss requires a lot of concentration,' Karen reveals. 'Sometimes it can get tiring. You get frustrated, even though you shouldn't.' On long car rides, for example, Rachel couldn't understand her mom unless Karen turned her head toward her. But this summer, when the family makes the 6-hour trip to visit Karen's parents, conversations will flow freely.

The only downside of the FM transmitter? Rachel's 5-year-old brother, Christopher, is a tad jealous and wants one for himself. And, of course, he's eager to talk into her ear all day long. You know how little brothers are.

'I feel really, really proud to be able to give this to her,' Karen said. 'When you've been thinking about this for so many years, and you see her face when she's wearing it...'

That was when Karen's voice trailed off into whispered tears.

I suppose that even for someone with perfect hearing and speech, occasionally, there are just no words to describe the life-changing power of a stranger's personal kindness.

The Mob Mentality

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

The Internet has always been Modest Needs' lifeline and my most important connection to all of you - donors and applicants alike - who participate in this work with us. But I recently had the unique pleasure of breaking free from cyberspace to meet with a group of donors in person. And what a group it was!

Last week, I visited the Loews Hotel Miami Beach to introduce Modest Needs to about 300 of its employees -- everyone from top managers in crisp summer suits all the way to waiters, housekeepers, and groundskeepers. And over the course of a couple of hours, these people generated more positive energy than I thought one room could hold.

This is the story not of one person's extraordinary act of kindness, but of hundreds':

As part of the events celebrating the launch of Modest Needs' partnership with Loews Hotels and their team members nationwide, the Loews Hotel Miami Beach invited its staff to learn more about Modest Needs at a little rally, complete with a royal-sized spread of food and a prize raffle.

I was hardly the focus of this event. Of course, I spent about 20 minutes talking about Modest Needs - what we do, how we work, and how our donors (yes, all of you!) make a difference in the lives of hardworking, low-income families at the time they need it most - and everyone at this rally was very excited to learn that they'd be working with Modest Needs to help us help others over the coming months and years.

But for many of the employees, I suspect, the real highlight of the day was the much-anticipated raffle which 'closed the show.'

The first four prizes that were raffled off were, well, modest: $25 gift cards to Target and the local Publix supermarket, a cordless phone, and a DVD player. But you wouldn't have known it by the audience's reaction each time a new prize was announced.

When the winner of the $25 Target gift card heard her ticket number called, for example, she ran down to the front of the room in a scene that reminded me of the Price is Right. Arms flailing, all smiles, with a gust of cheers and clapping from the crowd, she accepts this 'modest' gift card with the excitement you'd expect to see from someone who has just won a 'Showcase Showdown,' including twin Mercedes!

The other three prizes follow with equal fanfare. And then, it's time for the big one.

Standing at the front of the crowd, the hotel manager pulls the grand prize, $250 in cold, hard cash out of his pocket and explains that Loews Hotels nationwide will be collecting spare change from employees to give to Modest Needs. 'So before we raffle off this $250,' he starts, 'what do you say we give $50 to them?'

There's no hesitation on the audience's part. Cheers fill the room as he plops a $50 bill into the Modest Needs 'change box' (which is really about the size of a treasure chest) that has now been placed at the front of the auditorium.

There's a fleeting moment of disappointment when the manager announces the grand-prize winner: sadly for that person, he or she has 'slipped out' of the meeting a little early and misses out on the $200 prize. 'How about we toss another hundred in the jar, then?' the manager asks the crowd.

And of course, the audience concurs without hesitation. They cheer again. Again, the manager of the Loews Miami Beach drops a hundred-dollar bill into the Modest Needs change box, bringing the grand-prize total down to $100.

By this point I'm doing some math in my head. Although Loews compensates its employees well by all standards, for many of the folks in this room (and many of us, for that matter), $250, coming to us from out of thin air, would be like winning the lottery. Yet these folks don't seem as excited about the possibility of winning that money as they seem to be about the prospect of helping someone with it.

Five years of working with Modest Needs has taught me to expect the best of people, since that's what I usually see. But I'm not used to seeing people cheer at the thought of giving money away! And then, just when I think things can't get any better - well, something happens that no one would ever have expected.

This, it turns out, is really the highlight of the rally.

Finally, the manager of the Loews Miami Beach hotel draws a new raffle ticket. He calls the number. And out of the crowd - to the elation of his peers - jumps a man who I later learn is named Francois. Turns out he's a laundry supervisor for the Loews Miami Beach.

My first impression? 'This is guy who really sweats for every dollar that he earns.'

Honestly, as this guy comes barreling towards the stage to pick up his prize, I'm thrilled for him. In fact, everyone in the room - his friends, his colleagues, even though they didn't win - they're all thrilled for him. And you can't help but be excited for this guy because his own excitement is contagious.

As this man approaches the stage, I find myself wondering what he's excited about, what he's planning to do with that $100. Is this a week's groceries? Is it part of the rent? Is it a little extra for his wife and children? What's got this guy so excited? What is he planning to do with that money?

But finally, together, we all discover what this guy is thinking about - because, you see, he doesn't actually take the $100.

Instead, he gestures to the manager to throw $50 of his newfound bounty - fully half of his windfall - into the Modest Needs change box at the front the room.

The opportunity to really help someone else: that's what this guy had been thinking about the whole time. That, as it turns out, is the reason he'd been so excited.

The audience literally erupts in cheers and tears at this man's courageous generosity. And, as the rally draws to a close, I watch through misty eyes of my own as a line of newly energized Loews employees -- housekeepers, porters, front desk attendants -- forms behind the Modest Needs change box, their hands digging deep into their pockets . . . .

You know, it's funny. When you hear the term 'mob mentality,' you can't help but envision a negative atmosphere of some kind -- angry fans at a football game, or violence erupting at a protest rally.

But at the Loews Hotel Miami Beach last week, I saw 'mob mentality' spring from one person's courageous generosity. I watched the spirit of generosity become infectious, as people who'd never heard of Modest Needs before, inspired by a single man's altruism, lined up so that they could change the life of a person they knew they were never going to meet.

And most importantly, I witnessed 300 people who, simply by doing what they could, redefined for all of us what it really means to be a winner.

The Giving Ladder

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Since the launch of Modest Needs as a personal project in 2002, the question I've most often been asked about this work is, 'Why do you think that Modest Needs has been so successful?'

That's actually a good question because, over the past five years, I've come to understand that virtually every aspect of our work - from our mission itself to the way we fulfill it - defies the charitable 'status quo.'

Of course, if I stammer for a moment, I can usually come up with an answer to this seemingly simple question that satisfies whoever is asking it. But honestly, especially knowing what I know now about why charities are supposed to work, I've never really been able to come up with an answer to that question that satisfied my heart..

That is, not until late last month.

On 18 March 2007, ten carefully selected charities from the New York area - including Modest Needs - were invited to participate in a 'charity mall' that was hosted by a local house of worship. The goal of this event was simple: it was designed to teach children in Kindergarten through 6th grade about the importance of helping others.

Honestly, I had dreaded this event for weeks because I just had no idea how to communicate Modest Needs' mission to young children. In the end, we opted for simplicity. We used poster board to make what we called 'The Giving Ladder.' We attached to that ladder a single request for help, from a person in North Carolina who'd lost a couple of weeks' wages in the course of caring for his wife, who had ovarian cancer. He'd since gone back to work, but he'd gotten behind on the house payment, and the bank was threatening to foreclose on the family home.

The amount this family needed to save their home? $473.30.

One by one, as these children walked by with their parents, we explained in the simplest terms what we do at Modest Needs, and we told them about this particular family's request for help.

And one by one, we watched as these children took their own money - mostly from their allowances - and dropped one or two or three dollars at a time into a little bag we'd been given by the charity mall organizers for that purpose.

Each time a child gave in this way, we moved a little image of the family that we were working to help up just a bit on our 'Giving Ladder.'

The charity mall began in earnest at about 8:30am. By 11:30am, in increments of between one and five dollars at a time - all from children aged 5-11 - we'd raised $470.00 of the $473 and change necessary to fund this application.

Around 11:45am, just as I was about to take a short break (we still had over three hours to go, and I was already exhausted), two little girls came up to our table with their mother. These children were introduced to me by the event organizer as 'very special children.' I had no idea why these children were special, but I told them about Modest Needs and about the family we were working to help that day.

Between them, these two little girls gave the last of the money we needed to fully fund this North Carolina family's request for help. I told them this, and you just couldn't have measured the breadth of their smiles.

But it was their mother who seemed the most moved by what her daughters had done. She asked if we had other applications she could read. I'd brought some with us, and she thumbed through them, reading each application carefully, and with misty eyes.

I didn't see this person again until around 1:45 in the afternoon. But as we were packing up to leave, from out of nowhere, this mother of two returned to our table and handed us a check $126.49 - exactly the amount necessary to fund a request for help she'd seen from a family in Missouri that had gotten a little behind on a utility bill.

As she passed the check over our table, I came to understand why she'd read those applications so carefully, so quietly. Almost under her breath, she said:

'You know, my husband was killed in the 9/11 attacks on New York. That time - that was the hardest time of my life. To lose my husband, for my children to lose their father, that was hard enough. But then, for the first time in my life, to not know how we were going to buy food, let alone pay for the house, or for clothes . . . . '

She paused.

'We made it though that time because people I didn't even know offered to help us. And that's why I'm giving you this check. I know what it is to depend on the kindness of strangers.'

***

Today, Modest Needs turns five years old. Over those five years, and against all odds, those of you who support Modest Needs have raised more than $1 million - mostly in $5, $10, and $20 increments. With an average grant of only $317.00 per family, as of today, you have stopped the cycle of poverty for exactly 3,206 individuals and families. And over time, more than two-thirds of the people you've helped have returned to Modest Needs - not as applicants, but as donors.

Charity think-tankers may puzzle for years over the phenomenal success of a charity as unconventional as Modest Needs. But especially today, on Modest Needs fifth anniversary, I think you and I understand it all too well:

No matter who we are, where we come from, or where we are right now, at one point or another in our lives, we all have learned what it is to depend on the kindness of strangers. And if Modest Needs has proven anything at all, it's that once you've learned this lesson for yourself, you just can't wait to become the next rung on a Giving Ladder that already has changed your life.

To those of you who already support Modest Needs - and to those of you who will begin to support this work in the days and months ahead - thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for what I hope has been a life-changing five years for all of us.

And for all of us, may there be many more.

For James

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

In mid-August 2006, on a day that started out like every other day, I received a personal letter so unusual that, at first, I was unsure exactly how to answer it.

The letter came to Modest Needs from Chicago, from a woman named Heidi. Her simple, unassuming note (which I've lightly edited to save space) said only this:

***

At the beginning of September, I will be driving from my home near Chicago to Portland, Oregon to scatter my late husband's ashes near Mount Hood. When I'm in Oregon, I would like to donate my car to a worthy individual whose life it can have a real impact on -- not just drop it off at the office of some enormous charity knowing that it's going to be auctioned.

It's a 1994 Honda Civic EX Sedan, and by the time I get to Portland it will have just about 180K miles on it. It's been very well-maintained and should have quite a bit of life left.

[My] overriding desire is to give [this car] to someone whose life it can really improve. If you have any pending requests in the Portland area that might be a good fit, or if you have any suggestions as to people I might contact, I would be very grateful for your input.

Thanks very much for your time.

***

Now of course, you all know that granting what I'd call 'personal wishes' doesn't fall within Modest Needs' very special mission. But that hasn't stopped well-meaning people who don't know much about Modest Needs from asking for our help to grant such wishes anyway.

Over the past four and a half years, I can't even count the number of letters we've received from people 'wishing' to go on a vacation, or wishing for a video game, or wishing for something else that doesn't qualify as a request for help with a short-term emergency expense.

But in all of this time, Heidi's is the first letter I think we've ever received from someone asking for help to grant a wish of this very special type: a personal wish to step into someone's life and change it dramatically with a gift that goes far beyond the types of help we generally can offer at Modest Needs.

Honestly, I was a bit taken aback by the nature of this letter - and it takes a lot to leave me speechless. But not wanting to waste any time, I responded right away, told Heidi we'd do our best to find just the person she was looking for, and then published a short note in our August 2006 newsletter to let people know about this very special opportunity.

Shortly after publishing the August 2006 newsletter, I received a note from a woman named Michele, who'd heard about Modest Needs - as many people do - from a friend of a friend online.

She'd written to ask about the car. Hers was the only application for the car that we received, but her story was all too familiar.

Michele and her family - four of them altogether - had been living in Alabama in August 2005, when Hurricane Katrina tore through the Gulf Coast Region. Michele's husband - Randy - is an artist. He creates glass sculptures. So I don't think I have to tell you what kind of damage Hurricane Katrina did to this man's studio, to his livelihood, and to this family's life.

With absolutely nothing left for them in Alabama or Louisiana (Randy had made much of his living in New Orleans), Michele, Randy and their children had moved to Eugene, Oregon last year in hopes of starting over. They were well on their way to getting back on their feet when the transmission of the old van they'd used to get to Oregon in the first place - their only mode of transportation - simply gave out.

Approximate total cost to fix this transmission? Twice the value of van itself - and much more than this family could possibly afford to spend.

In the meantime, the family had been making do with a small motorcycle.

Almost immediately, it was clear to me that we had here the makings of a life-changing experience for all concerned. By helping this family, Heidi would get the chance to fulfill her wish - and by helping Heidi to fulfill her wish, the Modest Needs family would be doing its part to give this Oregon family the fighting chance they needed as they worked to rebuild their lives.

We did the fact checking and, satisfied that everything was in order, I wrote to Heidi to tell her we'd found her family. I introduced Heidi to Michele, and they began making arrangements to meet. And that's where this story would've ended, if my curiosity hadn't gotten the better of me.

Given the unusual nature of Heidi's request, I wrote to ask her if she'd tell me what had moved her to want to make this extremely generous donation. I will never, ever forget reading the letter she sent in response. Lightly edited, here is that letter - the very definition of 'Courageous Generosity':

***

September 2nd is the second anniversary of my husband's death. On that day, I will set out from the accident site at the time of the collision and drive cross-country, arriving about four days later in Portland.

Though we've always lived in Illinois, I'm driving to Portland because James, my husband, fell in love with the place when we were there in 1992 and tried for more than a decade to convince me to move there. Making it his final resting place is my chance to give him something he always wanted.

I want to donate my car while I'm there because inside me beats the heart of a poet, and there is something poetic about driving out and leaving more than just his ashes behind.

Why go to the extra trouble of donating this car through Modest Needs rather than just dropping it off at any one of dozen big charities? There are actually two reasons: one practical, one emotional.

The emotional reason is that I had that car for more than two-thirds of the 14 years I spent with my husband. It took me to visit him every weekend while he was away at school. It took me to our wedding, and it took me to the hospital that awful morning two years ago.

If I close my eyes, I can still see him next to me and feel his hand on my shoulder as I drive.

It would be a sad thing indeed to hand that car over to an anonymous tow truck driver. Giving it to someone who will drive away with a huge smile and a happy heart is a much better ending -- don't you think?

***

Attached to this letter was a picture of James and a copy of the newspaper article chronicling the accident that took his life.

At the time of his death, James was just 34 years old. He was riding to work on his motorcycle (wearing a helmet and protective gear) as two young men coming the opposite way fought for position -- a lane was ending and both stubbornly refused to yield. They collided, sending one into a broadside skid across the center line and directly into his path.

He had no chance to avoid the impact.

I've now read this letter many times. And each time I read it, my reaction is the same. I find myself trying to imagine James, Heidi's husband. I come away from this letter sorry that I can know James only through his legacy. But what a legacy it is - for all of us.

Despite a senseless death under circumstances that would make it so easy to feel nothing but hate, this man inspired such love, such compassion, such generosity in those who knew him that his wife's only wish was to carry on his legacy by changing the life of a stranger.

But Heidi has done much more than that. By honoring her husband as she has, Heidi has reminded us of the life-changing power of compassion. And by sharing her husband's story with all of us, she's encouraged us to offer up to others the compassion they deserve by virtue of their humanity - even at times when 'compassion' is the last thing we ought to be feeling.

James, on behalf of the people whose lives you touched while you were here, and on behalf of those whose lives you don't even know you've changed, this one is for you.

Thank you.

Modest Needs Makes a House Call

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

I think that everyone who supports Modest Needs - myself included - gets a lot of pleasure out of knowing that every month, we're making a tremendous difference in the lives of dozens of individuals and families facing a short term crisis.

But the pleasure that comes from actually being able to see the difference we're making - well, that's a kind of pleasure that is too rare to be taken for granted.

On 18 July 2006, Modest Needs received an application from a woman named Bendetta, who lives with her three sons in Southern California. Taken at face value, Bendetta's request seemed simple enough. She came to Modest Needs seeking our help to purchase a bed for one of her children.

But in the course of performing the due diligence on this application, we learned that in recent months, life for Bendetta had been anything but simple. Like too many people in this and other countries, Bendetta and her children had been victims of domestic violence.

After suffering for some time at the hands of an abusive husband / father, Bendetta was forced, in February of this year, to flee from her home. She was able to take with her only her children and whatever possessions they could pack into her small car.

Needless to say, they've never looked back.

Happily, Bendetta is not just a hard worker; she's a resourceful person. Even in the midst of this turmoil, she kept her full time job and was quickly able to find a new home for her family. There was just one problem: the apartment she found - the best apartment she could afford for her family on her budget - was not furnished. No tables. No chairs.

Not even a bed to sleep in.

Since fleeing an abusive relationship in February 2006 - for five full months - Bendetta and her three children have been living in a safe but absolutely bare apartment. They've been sleeping on makeshift pallets on the floor of their new home.

Yet, for all of this time, neither Bendetta nor her children has ever complained about their situation, nor have they asked for help from anyone. Bendetta continues to work full time, purchasing necessities for her family as she can afford them. And her children - all three of them - they're just happy to be in a safe place with their mom.

Honestly, I don't think we'd ever have heard from Bendetta had it not been for an emergency related to her middle son, who is ten years old and - like her other two children -an honors student. In June, this child began to experience an unusual pain in his foot. Bendetta took him to the doctor, and a short time later, she learned that her son had a tumor.

Bendetta's son ended up in the hospital, where doctors performed surgery to remove the tumor. At the time of her application to Modest Needs, the biopsy had not yet come back, but Bendetta knew - I think we all know - that her son really needed to be in a bed when he came back from the hospital.

That was her reason for turning to Modest Needs. She requested our help to purchase a bed for her middle child, so that he would be comfortable when he returned from the hospital.

Needless to say, all of us at Modest Needs were moved by this application and did our best to put it forward for our donors as quickly as possible. And your response to this application was almost exactly what I expected it to be. Not only did all of you give this application one of the highest scores since we implemented 'donor review' at Modest Needs, most of you left notes attached to this application saying nearly the same thing:

'Whatever it costs, make sure that every member of this family has a bed.'

Normally, at this point in a 'Profile in Courageous Generosity,' I would tell you about the outcome of this application. This time, it thrills me that I don't have to.

Suffice to say that, I was actually in Los Angeles last week, and I thought that under the circumstances, it would be fun to make a house call. In tandem with Utopia, a furniture store in the OC kind enough to provide these beds for us at cost, we arranged to hand deliver to Bendetta and her sons four beds that we were able to provide, thanks to your courageous generosity.

But that's not all. As luck would have it, KCBS and KCAL - the CBS affiliates in Los Angeles - learned that we were going to be making a house call and asked if they could send a reporter to cover the story. Of course, we were happy to have them. And what a story it turned out to be!

Follow this link to watch your 'small change' and courageous generosity at work in the lives of Bendetta and her children, as reported by KCBS and KCAL 9 in Southern California on 24 July 2006. (Video will run in Widows Media Player in a new window.)

And thank you, as always, for the miracles you make possible through your generous support of Modest Needs.

Enjoy!

A Left-Handed Glove

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

One of the hidden costs of living paycheck-to-paycheck is that, often, the people most in need of a 'good deal' end up paying more for almost every major purchase they make. When you're on a limited income or have a less-than-perfect credit rating, home mortgage finance charges are higher. You can't take advantage of the 'up-front' savings of paying for services six months or a year in advance. And if your car suddenly dies, you're in no position to go shopping for the best deal.

That's why, in the United States, we have an entire billion-dollar a year industry that specializes in 'dealer-financed' auto loans.

To people who must have a car but who lack the credit rating or income necessary to finance their purchase through a conventional dealer, dealers who also act as lenders - people who operate 'Buy Here-Pay Here' auto-dealerships - are often the only viable option. Taken at face value, dealer financing also seem like a good deal (no pun intended). For a minimal down payment and what appear to be small, weekly payments at a fixed (but very high) interest rate, you can drive off the lot in the car of your choice.

Of course, there are many good 'Buy Here - Pay Here' dealerships - solid, reputable establishments that provide a valuable service to members of their communities. But unfortunately, there are also unscrupulous auto-dealers of this type who exist take advantage of their customers.

You see, unscrupulous auto dealers who engage in dealer financing arrangements know that, nine times out of ten, the persons who can't get standard auto financing will end up being late on a payment at least once. So, they require their customers to sign a finance contract that allows the lender to repossess the car the second a scheduled payment is a technically 'late.'

And that's exactly what unscrupulous 'Buy Here-Pay Here' dealerships do.

Once the lender has repossessed the car, the finance contract allows for the addition of all kinds of fees - towing fees, contract renewal fees, etc.- to the single 'late' payment. When borrowers come to reclaim their cars, they're told that their loans can be renewed once they've remitted the 'late' payment plus all of the associated 'fees' - which by themselves can total three or four times the car's scheduled payment.

Of course, these lenders know that the persons to whom they market their services won't be able to pay these additional fees. And when they can't, after a week or so, the lender 'accelerates' the note to be due in full immediately, terminates the finance contract, keeps the car - and then resells the very same vehicle to another unwitting customer.

The dealership then repeats this process, 'selling' the same cars to different customers over and over again, until these cars no longer run and must be sold as scrap.

If all of this seems like an 'unscrupulous' business practice - well, in my opinion, it is. But in most states, it's also perfectly legal. In Texas, for example, persons who have no choice but to purchase a car under these terms also have no legal recourse to action once they realize they've spent thousands of dollars to rent an inferior used car for a few months - all because of a single, barely-late payment.

Tara, a hard-working single mother living in Lewisville, TX found this out the hard way. But in her case, the unscrupulous antics of an auto dealer didn't just cost her a job.

It nearly cost her eleven year old son an arm.

Like most single mothers, Tara faced a number of challenges unique to her situation. With two young children to support, and with no assistance of any kind from the father of her children (despite a court order), Tara had to work at least one part-time job to afford the daycare costs that would allow her to work the full time job that actually paid her family's bills.

Obviously, because she lives in an area without good public transportation, Tara couldn't support her family without a car. And when the car she had been driving finally died, she had no choice but to go the 'dealer-financed' auto route. Ultimately, she did end up with a drivable car - and payments of $247.91 every two weeks at an APR of 21%.

Sound ridiculous? Of course it is. But when you're living paycheck to paycheck and you have to have a car to get to take care of your family, you don't have the luxury of negotiating.

In any case, thanks to her solid work ethic, Tara was able actually to afford this car, and her regular bills. In fact, she was sometimes able to make payments on her car two weeks at a time, in advance. Everything was fine - until suddenly, in the type of chain reaction we all fear, the bottom fell out of Tara's life.

Without warning, Tara was downsized from her part-time job. In order to keep her full time job while she looked for replacement income, she had to allocate one car payment to daycare costs. This meant she couldn't make one of her car payments as scheduled . . . and despite the fact that she was actually current on her payments at the time, her lender 'exercised his rights' and repossessed her car.

With her car repossessed, Tara had no way to get her children to daycare, or to get herself to her job. This meant she had to miss time at work. With no way to get her car back - and no way to look for new part time work - within a week, she'd lost her full-time job as well.

Tara came to Modest Needs seeking our help to get her car back from the 'Buy Here - Pay Here' dealership that had repossessed it. At the time she contacted us, she'd already managed to find a new full-time position but had no reliable way to get to work on her own. She owed two car payments - plus all of the additional fees that had been 'tacked onto' her account - for a total of $635.71.

Our donors overwhelmingly indicated that they wanted to help Tara, so we contacted the auto dealership to tell them we'd be making this payment on her behalf. And guess what? Upon learning that Modest Needs was ready to help, the lender accelerated the car's note to be immediately due and payable in full.

That's right. The minute we called her lender to intervene on Tara's behalf, this Dallas-area auto dealership sprang into action and took every step they could to ensure that, short of paying off her entire auto loan (at a cost of over $13,000), Modest Needs would not have the power to help her.

Needless to say, I was outraged. I called everyone I could think of - from the Attorney General of Texas to every local Dallas TV station I could find - and everyone I spoke to said the same thing: 'That's a sad story, but in Texas, that's perfectly legal. There's absolutely nothing anyone can do.'

I was frustrated, but after doing everything I reasonably could, it looked like the 'good guys' just weren't going to win this one. We just didn't have the budget to pay off Tara's auto loan in full, and the auto dealership absolutely couldn't have cared less about the entire situation.

Discouraged, I called Tara to give her the bad news. And that's when she told me about her son for the first time.

It turns out that Tara's urgent need for transportation wasn't only about her ability to continue working. What Tara hadn't told us in her application was that her oldest son, Emmet, had been born with a congenital limb deficiency. Shortly after birth, his left arm had been amputated below the left elbow.

Without insurance to cover a prosthetic, Emmet had lived his entire life with only one usable arm. But Tara was determined to give her son the one thing he wanted most: a left hand. To that end, a year or so ago, she'd applied on his behalf for a prosthetic limb from the Scottish Rite Hospital for Children, an excellent medical facility about a 60 minute drive from her home.

After a lot of hard work and a long wait, Tara's son Emmet had finally been approved for his protesthesis. At last, this little boy was going to have two hands, just like everyone else. The only problem: the waiting list for those prosthetic limbs is enormous, and Tara now had no way to get her son to the hospital. She no longer had a car of her own, lacked the credit card or means to rent a car, and knew no one who could afford to take time from work to take her and her son on a 120 mile round-trip, several days in a row.

Through the tears of a mother, Tara told me that Emmet had been scheduled to receive his prosthesis in exactly seven days. Without transportation, she wasn't just going to lose her new job; her son wasn't going to be able to keep the appointment that would give him a left hand of his own. And that's the one thing that hurt her most, she said: the thought of the look on his face when she told him that he wasn't going to be getting that new left arm after all.

And that was it. The last straw. As I listened on the phone, tears streaming down my own face, I decided, then and there, that we couldn't let this happen. We weren't going to let Tara lose her job, or let her son miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity - over the businesses practices of an unscrupulous auto dealership.

One way or the other, Tara was going to have a drivable car of her own, free and clear, within one week. And Emmet was getting his prosthetic arm. Period. End of story.

The problem was, even our maximum grant of $1,000 just isn't enough to buy a reliable used car. So, if Tara was going to keep her job; and if her son was going to keep that appointment; we were going to need more than courageous generosity.

We were going to need a miracle about as big as the heart of Texas.

Not exactly sure how we were going to pull this off at all (much less in seven days) I told Tara to start looking for used cars - cars that would run, no matter how they actually looked. For two days, we both searched and searched, but ultimately, we came up with nothing but junk.

And then, we hit the jackpot: a woman who lived about 15 miles from Tara was selling a used Acura. It certainly wasn't a new car - it had 220,000 miles on it - but it still ran fine, had no real mechanical problems, and a Carfax report showed it to be in good shape.

The problem? This woman was asking $2500 for her car - much more than we could possibly afford to pay her.

So I made a few phone calls to friends of Modest Needs in Texas. Thanks to their additional support for this purpose, we were able to generate an extra $500 for this application, but that's still a long way from $2500. But with time running out, I figured we had nothing to lose. I called the woman who had offered the car for sale. I explained the situation, and I told her that all we could offer was $1500 - our maximum grant, plus $500.

I didn't expect this woman to accept our offer, which was less than even the 'dealer' blue-book value of the car. And that's why I'll never forget her response.

After thinking for a minute, in a deep-Texas accent, she said, 'Ya'll are obviously good people, and I'm a single mother too. I'll give her the car for $1500. The rest of it - we'll just call that my gift to her little boy.'

In the end, thanks to the courageous generosity of the Modest Needs community and the help of a couple of people with hearts as big as the state that they call home, Tara got her car - a car she now owns, free and clear. She kept her job - a job that, to our knowledge, she has to this day. And one week later, her son Emmet was outside playing catch with his friends, something he'd done a thousand times before.

Only this time, he was wearing a left-handed glove.

Tabitha's Testimonial

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Over the past four years, those of you who contribute to Modest Needs have done some pretty spectacular things with your 'small change.' During that time, for example, you've stopped the auction of a paid-for family home over a small property tax bill that the home owner couldn't pay after his wife suddenly became ill. You've saved the life of a cancer patient by making the COBRA payment that allowed him to continue his treatments when an unrelated emergency prevented him from paying that bill on his own. You've even restored the sight of a little boy who saw his mother for the first time, thanks to the special glasses that would've been out of reach for his family, had it not been for the kindness and compassion that so many of you demonstrate at Modest Needs each day.

There's no disputing that in each of these cases - and too many more to mention at once - that your 'small change' has truly made a world of difference to someone in need of our help. But overall, I think many of you will agree that the most poignant applications that we see at Modest Needs are those that seek our help to afford 'the little things' - the necessities that so many of us take almost for granted.

This is the story behind one such request for help - a request for help that came from a woman named Yasmira, who lives with her mother and daughter in a small apartment here in New York City.

Like many of Modest Needs' applicants, Yasmira is a truly remarkable person, someone who has dedicated her life to the service of others. Shortly after her high school graduation, for example, Yasmira decided that she wanted to serve her country, so she enlisted in the military. She excelled in her chosen field and planned to pursue a military career.

But when Yasmira discovered that she was going to have a baby, she was faced with a choice that no person should ever have to make: she could have her child, or she could have the career she'd prepared for all of her life.

Given her selflessness, it's no surprise that Yasmira chose her child.

Yasmira was honorably discharged from military service, and nine months later, she gave birth to a beautiful little girl named Tabitha. Unfortunately, the birth itself was not an easy one, and Tabitha was injured during her birth. As a result of this injury, Tabitha developed Erb's palsy and will need nearly constant care for the rest of her life.

But Yasmira is not one to give up. Even though a military career was no longer an option for her, Yasmira went back to school, where she studies between jobs to become a paralegal. Simultaneously, she's been prepping to take the NYPD entrance exams so that she can serve New York City with the same enthusiasm with which she once served her country.

Yasmira is obviously a hard worker. For five years now, with no help from anyone but her mother, she has done all of these things - and much more - with a single goal in mind: to provide the best life that she possibly can for her daughter. But New York is an expensive city, and sometimes, when you're caring for a disabled child on your own, even the most basic necessities can become frustratingly out of reach.

That's why Yasmira came to us for help. Ever since her daughter has been out of a crib, she and Yasmira have been sharing the only bed that they could afford: the worn twin mattress that Yasmira has had since long before her daughter was born. For three years now, the two of them have been sleeping on a single twin mattress, which is now so worn that the springs are beginning to show.

And that's all Yasmira asked for: our help to give her daughter the sweet dreams that all of our children deserve.

Of course, all of you who participate in Donor Review at Modest Needs voted overwhelmingly to fund this application. And this time around, since Yasmira actually lives in the city where Modest Needs is based, I thought it would be nice if we took the time to fund this request for help in person.

So, on your behalf, about two weeks ago, I went to a local Sleepy's store, planning to purchase a single twin mattress. As things turned out, I left that store with not one, but two twin beds. To make a long story short, when the folks at Sleepy's heard Yasmira's story and learned what we were planning to do, they offered us an incredible deal: two complete twin beds, for less than the best estimate Yasmira had been able to find for the single twin bed she had asked for our help to afford.

Last week, on the day after Memorial Day, I went to Yasmira's apartment, rang the bell, and delivered these mattresses to Yasmira and Tabitha on behalf of the Modest Needs community. There were hugs. There were tears. And best of all, there was a picture that Tabitha drew for us as her way of saying 'thank you.'

Above all, I wanted you to see this picture - Tabitha's Testimonial - because according to her, this is a picture of us.

This is what we do at Modest Needs - through the eyes of a five year old child:

Laying a New Foundation

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Since August of 2005, people from across the United States - and indeed, from around the world - have watched as our neighbors in Mississippi and Louisiana have struggled to reclaim their lives from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. During the six months since the storm, we've seen a great many images from the region - images of roadways that haven't been cleared or rebuilt, of businesses that have not yet reopened, of homes that have yet to be restored.

But in the midst of the turmoil, the finger-pointing, and the heart-breaking stories still pouring in from the Gulf Coast states, there is one thing I think we'd all agree we haven't seen enough of.

That, of course, is progress.

While our nation struggles to determine how best to proceed with the rebuilding process, there remain many thousands of families whose lives are still in limbo. We've heard from a number of these families at Modest Needs, and one thing above all is clear:

What these families want - more than anything else - is to go back to their communities, repair their homes, and return to something like a 'normal' life.

Given the scope of the destruction that we've all seen in the Gulf Coast region, it's easy to feel as if there's nothing significant that any of us can do to speed this process along. We all know that 'small change' can fix a car, or send a sick child to the doctor. But can our 'small change' really rebuild even one home?

In fact, it already has.

A couple of weeks ago, we received a request for help from Larry, a father of four who was living in Waveland, MS when Hurricane Katrina hit. Larry's request for help is very typical of the applications for assistance that Modest Needs has been receiving from Hurricane Katrina's survivors since January 2006. It went almost exactly like this:

'Dear Modest Needs, Like many others, our home was flooded by Hurricane Katrina. Our home can be repaired, but I'm on a limited income. We have been in FEMA trailers for several months now, and we just want to go home. Our home is still standing but needs repair. If anyone has the resources to contact someone to donate wood and building supplies, this is much needed. We have 4 boys, 15, 12, 10 and 7 years old. Any help will be greatly appreciated. Thank You for listening. God Bless.'

As a part of his application, Larry was kind enough to send pictures of his home, so that all of us could see exactly the progress that has been made on Larry's home over the past six months. We're publishing those for you here (with permission) because they really do speak volumes.

As you can see from the images at right, through Larry's home is still standing, it certainly needs quite a bit of work. Katrina's floodwaters so severly damaged the interior of Larry's house that it had to be almost completely gutted before repairs even could begin.

Larry's home has been gutted and ready for repairs to begin for the past four months. And yet, of two weeks ago, no further work had been done on Larry's home.

Like many of the Gulf Coast residents affected by Hurricane Katrina, Larry doesn't want - or need - a brand new home, or more time in a trailer or hotel. For four months now, all he's been looking for is a hand-up - help to purchase the materials that would let him repair his home, and begin the process of putting his family's life back together.

Unfortunately, that's a type of assistance that's very hard to come by. And that's why - as a last resort - Larry turned to Modest Needs for help.

Despite the fact that the materials Larry needed to repair his home cost slightly more than our maximum grant, those of you who read his application overwhelming agreed that this was one request for help that we should fund at all costs. So two weeks ago, on your behalf, we sent Larry the lumber and other building materials he needed to repair his house.

And today, thanks to your courageous generosity, there's one less Waveland family waiting for the chance to go home.

Repairs to Larry's home are finally underway.

***

By now, you've almost certainly read the oft-circulated, always inspirational 'Starfish' story, which tells of an old man who spends his mornings on the beach, flinging starfish that have washed ashore during the night back into the sea, where he knows that they will thrive.

One morning, the old man is interrupted by someone who ridicules him, saying, 'Look at this beach. There are thousands of starfish and only one of you. What makes you think you can possibly make a difference?' At this, the old man defiantly picks up yet another starfish and hurls it back into the ocean.

Smiling, he says, 'I sure made a difference to that one.'

Our small change may not have had the power to rebuild every damaged home in the Mississippi Gulf, but we sure made a difference to Larry. And my hope is that as we move through 2006 at Modest Needs, Larry's story will be but the first of many such Modest Needs miracles. After all, through your courageous generosity, you've given Larry and his family much more than lumber, drywall and nails. For their house - and for their home - you've laid an entirely new foundation: one set in the promise of hope, strengthened by the spirit of compassion, and the reinforced by the power of human kindness.

Homes built on so strong a foundation cannot help but thrive.

Even if we must build them one at a time.

Generosity's Greatest Reward

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Usually, the publication of a new 'Profile in Courageous Generosity' will result in a barrage of email from the Modest Needs community. Sometimes, people write in to say how moved they were by a particular piece, or to say that a particular 'Profile in Courageous Generosity' has caused them to see the world in a kinder, gentler way.

All of these responses - both heartfelt and moving - are worth sharing, and I'm sorry only that I don't have the room here to publish them all, to share with everyone the warmth and compassion so evident in letters like these. But today, I want to share with everyone a particularly poignant letter I received last week in response to the publication of our most recent 'Profile in Courageous Generosity.'

It's a letter that really underscores the tremendous value of personal kindness, and should teach us all that the good work we're doing together at Modest Needs extends far beyond literal or figurative 'small change.'

Last week, I published the story of a woman in Michigan, who came to us seeking help with a small appraisal fee - a fee that we didn't know at the time would prevent the auction of her home, just hours before it was scheduled to take place.

You might remember the post-script to this story. Several weeks later, with her life returning to normal, this woman returned to Modest Needs, this time to determined to pass on the kindness that she said had changed her life.

In making this choice - and making it publicly - I know this woman inspired many of you. But shortly after the publication of this 'Profile in Courageous Generosity,' I received a letter from Brenda, a woman from upstate New York who had come to Modest Needs in February 2005, seeking help to afford the medication she needed to prevent pre-term labor.

How much, you ask, did this medicine cost? Just $30.00 - less than most of us spend each month on our morning cups of coffee.

I know that this amount of money - $30.00 - doesn't seem like much. But we've probably all lived through times when just $20 seemed to us like a fortune. When you're the family's primary breadwinner and in the midst of a high-risk pregnancy; when you're on a very limited income and then ordered to bed rest - well, it's times like these that friends and family matter most.

In the absence of friends or family members in a position to help Brenda even with this very 'modest' expense, I'm very happy that the members of the Modest Needs community were able to fund this very modest request for a medication that Brenda so obviously needed. But in the moment we wrote that check to a pharmacy in upstate New York for $29.95, I don't think any of us realized exactly what we were buying - or just how profoundly our 'small change' would affect the lives of this small family.

Below, I'm reprinting for you - lightly edited, for obvious reasons - the letter I received from Brenda, in response to last week's 'Profile in Courageous Generosity,' 'Reaching Out from a Different Place':

***

'It was one year ago today that I first learned of Modest Needs. I was pregnant with a very high-risk pregnancy, and terrified of losing my daughter. My husband and I were desperate to find a way to pay for the medicine that was the only thing preventing my preterm labor, but we qualified for no assistance from anyone.'

'I was desperate not to lose my daughter in the way I'd lost my son the year before, but we had no place to turn for help. When we'd just about given up, I found Modest Needs. The very next day, I applied for help and in no time was blessed to receive a check for the medicine I needed!'

'Here it is, a year later, and I have a beautiful, healthy, 10 month old baby girl! But when I look in her eyes, I don't see just the child I always wanted. I see the power of love, the promise of hope, and generosity's ultimate reward.'

'As you may imagine, a high-risk pregnancy is financially devastating. I'm certainly not well-off, and won't really recover for years to come. But today I cancelled a somewhat frivolous monthly charge to my credit card, and am instead donating the money to people who need your help, as I once did.'

'I'm honored to help out to the best of my ability, and look forward to playing a part in someone else's miracle.'

With much, much gratitude,

Brenda, and baby Ciara

***

I know that all of you who support Modest Needs are excited to learn that, through your kindness, another individual has discovered her power to be 'a part of someone else's miracle.'

But to see in the eyes of this child your promise of hope, and the power of your love to change lives - well, I think we'd all agree:

That is generosity's greatest reward.

Reaching Out from a Different Place

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

In November 2005, Modest Needs received a request for help from a woman in Michigan, struggling with a burden that none of us ever wants to face: the realization that her marriage to a substance-addicted spouse simply couldn't survive.

For ten years, this woman had demonstrated a rare type of bravery - a bravery born of both love and conviction. And despite her husband's addiction, she'd stayed by his side, doing everything she could to save her husband from his own worst enemy - himself.

During a decade of marriage, and despite her husband's inability to hold a job because of his addiction, this woman - also the family's sole breadwinner - had poured every spare cent she had into helping her husband beat his addiction to drugs. But finally, in September 2005, this woman discovered that her loyalty in the face of adversity had been repaid by her husband, not to her, but to his mistress: his addiction.

In September 2005, this woman discovered that the house payments she thought she'd been making, the bills she thought she'd paid, hadn't actually always found their way home. Turns out that, without her knowledge, her husband had drained their joint accounts, with most of their money going to finance his habit.

Faced suddenly with the realization that she did not have the power to change her husband, the realization that her husband's addiction was about to cost her everything she'd worked for all of her life, this woman did the only thing she reasonably could:

In an attempt to save both herself, her family, and her home - the lifetime investment she was now on the verge of losing - she filed for divorce from a person she loved very much, but simply did not have the power to save.

But an impending divorce was the least of this woman's problems. The desire of this woman's husband to finance his addiction had put her so far behind on her house payments that she now found herself standing literally on the brink of foreclosure. Despite working as hard as she could and earning a decent monthly salary, she simply had no way to cover - in addition to her regular monthly bills - the past due house payments she didn't know she had, not to mention the added cost of a divorce.

It is a tragedy that in this country, many persons are forced into bankruptcy and homelessness by the addictive or abusive behavior of a spouse. But this woman is one of the lucky ones, because for her, there was a way out that didn't involve a shelter.

Knowing that her husband had a serious problem, this woman been very guarded with her personal information, and her husband had not been able to destroy her credit rating. For this reason, she was able to apply for and receive approval on a new home loan - one that would lower her interest rate and monthly housing cost, catch up her past-due payments, and allow her to take the first step on the road to her own recovery.

There was just one problem: with all of these unexpected financial burdens coming at exactly the same time, she simply did not have on hand the additional $350 appraisal fee that her lender required, in advance, prior to the closing of the loan that would put her back on track.

With no one able to help her, this woman turned to Modest Needs. She asked for help with the $350 appraisal fee that stood between her and a brand-new life. And the reaction of this community - well, it was exactly what I knew it would be as soon as we saw the documentation attached to this request.

Our donors gave this application an overwhelming 'thumbs up.' We responded, funded the application as quickly as we could - and got help to this woman just in time to avert a tragedy that none of us even knew was coming.

Over the years, I've learned that at Modest Needs, the people who really need our help the most are often shy about telling us just how urgently our help is needed. In this case, what we didn't know - because this woman hadn't told us (I learned this only yesterday) - is that while we were working to fund this very 'modest' request for help, this woman's home had been scheduled for auction.

The $350 necessary to save this woman's home arrived just in time for her new lender to wire the appraisal fee to the appropriate party and stop the auction of her property - literally, within five hours of her lifetime's investment being sold to the lowest high-bidder.

For $350, raised mostly in 'small change,' the Modest Needs community was able to work together to reclaim this woman's home - and her independence. This, in itself, is a victory worth celebrating.

But that's not where this story ends.

Yesterday, I received a letter from this woman, writing again to thank us for helping to save her home. The letter ended with these words:

'[None of this] could've been done without the generosity of Modest Needs' donors. Small change really does make all the difference. Thank you, love, and peace.'

That letter was followed by notice of a brand new $30 monthly pledge -$1 a day, from a woman who two months ago, in a time of unthinkable crisis, stretched out her hand to us.

Today, that same hand is reaching out from a new place.

That same hand has joined us in reaching out to others.

On Location with Modest Needs

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

For nearly four years now, Modest Needs has stood as a testament to the power of personal giving. Together, with our 'small change,' we have changed countless lives for the better, but never before have we been able to reach as many persons uniquely in need of our help as has recently been possible.

To put things in perspective, your tremendous generosity over the past six weeks empowered Modest Needs to assist more persons in September and October 2005 than in the first seven months of 2005 combined.

Clearly, the tremendous contribution of the Modest Needs Community to the larger Hurricane Relief effort is something to be celebrated. Over the past six weeks, we have showcased the life-changing power of personal giving at Modest Needs in ways that have never before been possible. But talking about the good work we've done - that's one thing.

It's quite another to see it for ourselves.

On 13 October 2005, I had the pleasure of meeting Terri Bailey, a remarkable woman from Picayune, MS who is herself a 'Profile in Courageous Generosity.'

Terri's story, I think, will become more and more common as the hurricane relief effort continues in the Gulf Coast states. Like many persons whose communities were affected by Hurricane Katrina, Terri - a social worker and therapist by trade - found herself frustrated by the very limited and short-term presence of larger charitable organizations in her community. But rather than throw up her hands, she took action.

She temporarily closed her practice and dedicated herself full-time to the task of getting help to the persons in her community who she knew - from experience - needed help the most.

Inspired by Terri's hard work, dedication and courageous generosity, I took up a special collection from our donors and personally traveled to Picayune, MS so that all of us could participate directly in this very 'modest' but very personal hurricane relief effort.

From there, I spent five days traveling between Mississippi and Louisiana, hand-delivering on your behalf just over $12,000 worth of equipment, food, clothing and other essential supplies to hurricane survivors who had yet to receive significant help through more conventional channels - and who had no idea that we were coming to help them.

While I was in Mississippi and Louisiana, we met and assisted some remarkable people, including a solider who'd been called home from Iraq to find his own home completely destroyed, and the residents of a trailer park who survived the storm only to be evicted from their homes.

I also had the opportunity to witness, first-hand, the destruction caused by Hurricane Katrina.

As someone who actually has seen the new Gulf Coast for himself, I can tell you that absolutely nothing you've seen on the news or in the papers can possibly convey the scope of the damage caused by this disaster.

But try, for a moment, to imagine entire communities - not individual homes, or subdivisions, or neighborhoods, but entire small towns - absolutely erased, every structure razed to its foundation, and debris fields that go on for hundreds and hundreds of yards.

Picture that image, and you're seeing what we saw in Pass Christian, MS - just one of the coastal towns we visited while on location.

Repeat that scene over and over in your mind, and you're seeing virtually the entire Gulf Coast of Mississippi, exactly as it appears today - six weeks after the storm.

Suffice to say that the trip I made on behalf of the Modest Needs community to Mississippi and Louisiana was, in every way, a life-altering experience for me. From the beginning, I knew it would be an experience that I'd want to share with all of you.

And so, as a special gift to all of you, the persons whose courageous generosity continue to make this work possible, I took a professional documentary filmmaker with me to Mississippi.

During the five days that we were working in Mississippi and Louisiana, we were able to capture images of Hurricane Katrina's destruction that you won't see anywhere on the news - because, thanks to a series of minor miracles, we were able to get into areas that even the mainstream media has not yet been able to go. We were able to preserve remarkable stories of survival from the people whose lives were most directly affected by the storm.

And, for the first time ever, we were able to preserve the reactions of the people in this area who needed our help the most as they actually received assistance they didn't even know was coming, from an organization many of them had never quite heard of before.

In all, during our time on location, we shot just over 600 minutes worth of footage showcasing the life-changing power of your courageous generosity. That footage is now in the hands of a professional editor, who is cutting it into two short films: a seven-minute documentary - which we'll post to the website as soon as it's ready - and an extended, twenty-minute documentary that we'll be sending on DVD to every person who has contributed to Modest Needs throughout 2005.

For nearly four years now, Modest Needs has stood as a testament to the power of personal giving, but never before have we had the opportunity to show you the impact of your kindness.

Once you see these films, set to premiere 1 December 2005, I think you'll be as proud as I am of the good that we're doing, and the organization we've created together - a place where 'small change' really does make 'a world of difference.'

Heirloom

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Consider for a moment these three very special requests for help:

From Carrollton, TX - $250.00, for emergency dental care:

Four months ago, my 21 month old son fell down and broke off a tooth. Its pulp is exposed. My husband is working, but we cannot afford medical/dental through his job (over $500/mo for medical alone), and we do not qualify for public health aid because my husband is working. My son is in constant pain and cries all day, every day. It has been this way for four months, and I feel helpless. We just don't have the money to pay someone to pull this broken tooth. All I can do is watch and hope that his tooth does not become abscessed. Please help my son if you can.

From Riverside, RI - $395.00, to help a little girl walk correctly:

Our daughter, Madison, is 2 years old and she is the oldest of our triplet girls. She was evaluated, diagnosed, and is in need of Orthotics, which are inserts for the shoes in order to enhance her ability to walk and run without falling. Presently, and as she attempts to keep up with her sisters, Jordan and Danielle, she hits the bottom of her left foot with her right foot and falls. Her small calves bow out and she walks on the inside of her feet with her toes pointed inwards. We have been informed that Madison may not have the ability to be physical, to run and play like the other children, or play any sports as she ages without the Orthotics. The policy of the insurance company classifies this procedure as a cosmetic procedure and will not contribute towards the cost of the Orthotics. Can you please help us with this expense?

From New Castle, IN - $372.00, to give an autistic child a voice:

My son has autism as well as other medical issues, and he is nonverbal. My son uses the PECS system to communicate by handing a card with a picture or symbol on it to an adult for a desired item. I don't have the software to make the PECS, and with all of the medical expenses involved in the care of my son, we don't have the money to pay for this software. It's also not covered by any kind of insurance. He is 3 years old and would thank you if he could. Hopefully, with your help, he'll be able to. God Bless.

***

These three requests for help obviously have much in common. Each concerns the welfare of a child - and for that reason is especially moving. Each is truly 'modest' - no request for help in the bunch exceeds $400.00. And of course, these three requests represent a unique opportunity - the chance to forever change the life of a child.

These requests have something else in common, though. They are three requests for help that Modest Needs would not have been able to fund but for a special gift that has come to Modest Needs every month like clockwork for just over two years.

Since mid-2003, I think, around the 15th of the month, Modest Needs has received a check for $100.00. That check always comes wrapped in the same stationery, and each month, the short, unsigned note on that stationery makes the same, simple request:

'Please help a family with children.'

Of course, each month, we honor that request, just as we honor all such special requests. The three applications for help that you've just read? They represent just three of the children whose lives we've been able to change, thanks in part to these very special gifts.

But up until last week, I've never known the story behind them.

Because I know from experience that such stories are often very personal, I have never written to one of Modest Needs' donors to ask the question, 'Why do you give?' All the same, I have to admit that for some time, I've been very curious to hear the story behind these particular gifts, which have changed the lives of so many children at Modest Needs.

Last month - for a reason I understand only now, in retrospect - I felt especially compelled to write to the person who sends this gift so faithfully. I didn't mean to ask for the story behind this gift. I just wanted to let this person know that each month, that $100 gift really does go directly to a family with children.

The letter I received in response to that short note truly deserves to be shared, as it serves to remind us that human kindness has the power to reach, not just across our towns, but across time itself. Here, lightly edited to preserve the anonymity of this donor, is the story behind these very special gifts:

***

Ordinarily I would not share this with anyone, but here is how these gifts all came about.

At a less fortunate time life in my life, I was in need of a loan. An elderly gentleman helped me out quite generously, but passed away before I could repay the debt to him.

This man loved children but had none, so he used to come to the grocery store where I worked everyday and pass out $2.00 bills to kids that were just on a shopping trip with their mom. His face would light up and he had the biggest smile when he would hand them the $2 bill.

Clearly, this made him very happy.

This man trusted me so much that he didn't even have me sign a note of any kind. After he died, I struggled for many months, and even years, on how I could pay this man back in a way that he would approve of.

Then, three years ago, I read about Modest Needs in USA Today. I saved the article and later realized that this was how I could repay this generous and trusting man.

In his honor, I will continue to give in this way for as long as I am able. I am just so thankful that there is a place where I know I can really make a difference in the life of a family with children.

***

This elderly man may have died without ever having children, but through his kindness, he certainly left behind a powerful legacy. Thanks in part to his example, a toddler in Texas can eat without pain. A little girl from Rhode Island can keep up with her sisters. And a little boy from Indiana finally has a voice of his own.

But none of these miracles would've been possible at Modest Needs had it not been for another of this man's adopted 'children': one very grateful former clerk who took this man's kindness as her inheritance, cherished it as an heirloom, recognized its worth, and passed it on.

Pink Shoes

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

In light of last week's tragedy in London, I'm especially happy to share with each of you today a story that not only showcases the power of courageous generosity, but reminds us of the strength and joy that comes from finding the power to stand - even when standing is difficult.

***

Towards the middle of June, Modest Needs received a phone call from a social worker here in New York City. This call came on behalf of a little girl - a native of Africa temporarily in the United States - who had been born with both cerebral palsy and epilepsy.

Coming as she did from a poor family - and make no mistake: 'poor' in Africa is not the same as 'poor' in North America- this child's family had been unable to secure any kind of medical care for their daughter in their homeland. This left the family with essentially two choices: do nothing, and condemn their daughter to life as a beggar on the streets of her home, or get her to a country where medical care might be available to her.

These parents made exactly the choice I think we all would've made. They gave up everything they had - including a life together - so that this child's mother could bring her to the United States, a country where they knew she stood a chance of receiving the treatment that would allow her to live a normal life.

As with all true acts of courageous generosity, this act itself was rewarded. Thanks to the sacrifice of her parents, this little girl had gotten to the United States, where over the past year, she has received much of the medical care that she needed - types of care that simply would not have been available to her at home at any price.

Most remarkably, this little girl had received the gift of a very expensive brace, one hand-crafted specifically to fit the more misshapen of her two legs. That brace was fundamental to this child's welfare. It was the most important gift that she had received - a gift that would allow her to learn how to walk properly for the first time in her life.

And yet, for all of its importance, this brace had been gathering dust in the room this child shared with her mother. You see, having spent all of their money getting to the United States, this small family had little money for necessities, much less 'extras.'

This child could not use the brace she'd been given because her mother could not afford to purchase a pair of shoes. Nothing fancy. Nothing expensive. Just a simple pair of sneakers that would fit this child's feet, allow them to slip into the brace, and give this power to learn to walk properly.

That was the reason for the social worker's call to Modest Needs. Here in New York, there are hundreds of charities that can assist persons with many different types of special needs - sometimes to the tune of thousands of dollars per applicant at a time. But no organization can be all things to all people, and for larger organizations, a pair of sneakers - no matter their importance to the individual- just can't be a funding priority.

Having been turned down by everyone else she'd called, this social worker had called Modest Needs on behalf of this little girl, to ask if we might help her mother to afford the pair of shoes her daughter so desperately needed.

Not only did we assist, I had the rare pleasure of actually meeting this tiny family. The very next afternoon, on your behalf, I accompanied this little girl and her mother to a local shoe store.

There, thanks to your generosity, we purchased two pairs of pink shoes - the only new shoes this child has owned since her arrival in the United States.

And an hour later, I watched as this little girl left the shoe store - filled with joy just because she could stand without falling - and danced for all who would watch her on the sidewalk of a New York City street.

***

This piece is dedicated, with love and respect, to the residents of the UK, and especially our friends in London.

May each of you be filled with the joy of this child as you continue to find the strength to stand, never having fallen.

The Ripple Effect

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

For some time now, I've toyed with the idea of launching a column called the 'Modest Needs Hall of Shame.' I've resisted the temptation because, like most of you, I think there's already enough bad news in the world. But this much I can tell you: if Modest Needs ever were to launch such a column, the stories you'd read there wouldn't be about people.

Instead, our Hall of Shame would be populated almost entirely by corporations - stories of the companies that I've encountered over the past three years, usually in the course working to assist someone who has turned to Modest Needs for help with an emergency expense.

Sadly, Modest Needs we would have no problem populating a corporate 'Hall of Shame.' Take just the last 90 days, for instance. During that time, Modest Needs has encountered:

A collection agent in North Dakota who refused to accept our offer of full payment on an individual's small, past-due medical bill (less than $500.00), preferring instead to sue the applicant and ruin that person's credit for the next seven years -all in the interest of increasing his personal commission - and his company's profit margin.

A mortgage broker from Michigan who called to ask if we would add $1000 to the down payment of a woman keen to purchase her first home - knowing full well that, at her rate of income, the mortgage payment he was proposing amounted to over 58% of the woman's monthly gross. When I pointed out to him what should've been obvious, his response was, 'Well, once I get the house financed, what happens next (in other words, the inevitable foreclosure) is really not my problem.'

Worst of all - an apartment manager at a complex in North Carolina, whom I contacted when one of her tenants asked for our help with one month's rent so that she could remain permanently on her feet after returning to work, following a short bout of involuntary unemployment.

We investigated the situation more carefully, and it turned out that the tenant - our applicant - had managed to pay her rent to this complex every month, and in full, even while unemployed. She had gotten behind on her rent for exactly one reason:

Despite knowing her tenant's situation, the apartment manager had 'exercised her right' to take the tenant to court whenever she was late with the rent - each time tacking a 30% 'service charge' (the 'late fee' and 'court costs') onto this applicant's monthly rental balance.

These 'service charges' alone had cost the tenant an extra $1200 over a six month period.

Many of our donors suggested that Modest Needs assist this person, but at the time of the application, we simply didn't have the funding to pay both the rent and the current month's 30% 'service charge' on behalf of this individual. So I called the apartment manager to ask if, in the interest of helping this person to remain self-sufficient, she would consider waiving the late charges for just one month.

I will never forget that apartment manager's response to my very modest request. She said - and this is a direct quote:

'We're not in this business to help people, sir. We're in this business to make money.'

***

Like everyone reading this article, I'm sure, I find this type of corporate mentality absolutely outrageous. But I'm not including these examples of corporate nastiness here to suggest that all corporations are out to get the little guy (though experience shows that some clearly are.)

Rather, I'm mentioning these today as the preface to a story that I think underscores the far-reaching power of your courageous generosity, not just to touch lives - but to change minds.

Two weeks ago, Modest Needs received an application for assistance from Karen, a woman living in New Jersey. She'd written to us because, after a more than a year in her current residence - during which time she had never received an electric bill for more than $47.00 - she came home, in May 2005, to a whopping $800 bill from PSE&G, her electric service provider.

Karen was understandably alarmed by a bill of this size - one that amounted to virtually her entire monthly salary, and one that she had absolutely no way to pay on her own. She immediately called PSE&G's customer service to ask why the bill had been so high, and the customer service representative to whom she spoke told Karen that from July 2004 to April 2005, PSE&G had simply been 'estimating' her bill.

That's right. In nearly twelve months, PSE&G had never read Karen's meter. Not once. And when Karen asked the logical question - 'Why?' - it was the customer service representative's contention that, apparently, 'the meter reader had not been able to access her meter.'

This explanation didn't make sense to Karen, and she tried for several days to resolve this situation on her before turning to Modest Needs for help. Honestly, on first reading Karen's application, I found Karen's story a bit hard to believe. But when we received her supporting documentation, we were shocked by what we saw.

Indeed, Karen's bill had been estimated for almost a full year - a full year sandwiched between 'actual meter readings' in Spring 2004 and Spring 2005. Under those circumstances, it just didn't make sense for PSE&G to say that 'they [suddenly] couldn't access the meter' - for a year.

To make matters worse, we couldn't make sense of the charges on the bill. Using Karen's actual readings, we created estimates of our own. To be as fair as possible, we tripled her recorded actual usage during the summer months (when her air conditioning would've been in use) and quadrupled it during the winter, to account for heat.

Even so, after subtracting the amounts Karen already had paid on her bill (she had never been late), we just couldn't come close to the nearly $800 that Karen had been billed. It seemed likely to me that at some point during the year, the meter might've malfunctioned - but of course, there was no way to know this, since no one from PSE&G had actually read the meter for virtually any of the time that Karen had been living in her home.

Needless to say, I felt strongly that we should get to the bottom of this - and apparently, so did most of you. The dozens of you who evaluated Karen's application gave it universally high ratings and left comments like, 'We should pay this immediately!', and - more than once - 'Call local action news!'

So acting on your behalf, I made a phone call - not to local action news, but to PSE&G themselves.

Despite being very polite and honestly doing their best, the persons manning PSE&G's customer service line really couldn't help us - not because they didn't want to (every person I spoke to was remarkably kind), but because they weren't really in a position to know any more about the situation than we did, much less to do anything about it.

So, after two days of talking to PSE&G's customer service center - and not getting very far - I took things one step further by contacting PSE&G's corporate office. And at this point, to be honest, I was prepared to put up a fight.

After a couple of attempts to find the right person, I ended up speaking with a woman named Eileen - who works for PSE&G's corporate office, in their customer support department. I explained briefly who we were, what Modest Needs does, and the reason for my call: that we wanted to prevent the disconnection of a customer's electricity over an unexpected and abnormally large bill.

Given some of the corporations we've encountered in the past, Eileen's response really surprised me. She didn't ask much about the situation at hand, beyond what I'd already told her. Instead, after a brief conversation, she said, 'Your program sounds really remarkable. Please tell me more about Modest Needs.'

So I did. I told Elieen about our mission - to keep persons from entering the cycle of poverty by assisting them with involuntary, short term emergency expenses. I told her a bit about our origin, how we got started, how many persons we'd reached, how far we'd come in just three years. And when she asked about our primary source of funding, I told her that this remarkable work - all of it - was funded by compassionate individuals, with gifts now averaging just about $30 at a time.

Eileen seemed genuinely taken aback. She'd never heard of Modest Needs and was almost stunned to learn about this work. More than this, she was moved by the desire of strangers from across the country and around the world to help this woman - their customer - to stay 'on her feet' in the midst of a short-term crisis.

***

Eileen kept her promise. She did call back - but not to say that Karen's electric bill 'wasn't PSE&G's problem' or that PSE&G was 'in business to make money.'

Instead, she called to say that, at the corporate level, PSE&G had been so moved by your generosity that, in their own way, they wanted to be a part of this work! To that end, they took the extraordinary step of administratively reducing Karen's bill by $100 - the difference between the amount she actually had been billed, and the best estimate that we could create for a year of her actual usage.

Needless to say, your generosity took care of the rest of Karen's bill. And with the $100 we saved, we were able to fund an additional application - this one from a new college graduate, seeking assistance to afford the exams that would put her to work in her community - as a nurse.

If Modest Needs has proven anything over the years, it's that your acts of kindness here extend far beyond the persons we're able to assist because of them. They live on to create a ripple effect in the lives of persons who bear witness to this work.

In this case, the ripple effect of your courageous generosity didn't end with the two persons who came to us seeking assistance. From there, as always, your kindness has rippled outward to change lives, to create new ways of thinking and - this week - to inspire an entire corporation.

Bridging Mamie's Gap

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

In December of last year, just as the holiday season was getting into full swing, we began to experience a new phenomenon at Modest Needs: the 'agency referral.' Almost out of nowhere, we began to receive phone call after phone call from representatives of the most well-respected, well-funded non-profit organizations in the United States, all asking the same question:

'Is there some way that we can refer those individuals that we aren't equipped to assist to Modest Needs?'

Since that time, Modest Needs has logged about 280 'agency referrals' - requests for help from persons who have 'slipped through the cracks' of conventional giving. And I have come to understand - as never before - that these 'gaps' are actually more like canyons: just as dark, just as deep, and just as unforgiving to the people lost among them.

Today, as we mark Modest Needs' third anniversary, I want to share the story of just one such agency referral with all of you. Much of what you're about to read, I think, will surprise you, but I can think of no more fitting tribute to the life-changing power of personal kindness than the story of Mamie, a hard-working North Carolina woman who wrote to ask Modest Needs for $16 - the amount she pays for one month's rent.

This is Mamie's story:

Last October, at 52 years old, Mamie - who is single, who lives frugally, and who has provided for herself for her entire life -began to 'just not feel right.' She started to get unusual headaches. Her hands would sometimes shake, making it hard for her to write. Her vision was blurrier than normal, and she didn't feel 'so much like eating.'

At first, Mamie said, she thought nothing of it, just thought she was working a little too hard. But hard work is nothing new to Mamie, and when these symptoms began to interfere with her ability to make a living, she went to see her doctor.

After some testing, Mamie heard the words that all of us hope we will never have to hear:

'You've been diagnosed with cancer. Without surgery, you will not survive the year.'

***

That Mamie was alive to write to Modest Needs in February 2005 is a testament both to her personal strength, and the strength of the human spirit. With the help of the medical community, Mamie was able to beat a malignant brain tumor, and from what I understand, her doctors expect her to make a full recovery.

Eventually.

But eventually is not the same as now, and right now - temporarily - Mamie's surgery has left her unable to work even the odd jobs that have long supplemented her very small income.

When she realized that she wouldn't be able to work for a period time, Mamie applied for virtually every available type of social assistance. And in virtually every case, even despite a tremendous personal hardship, Mamie's applications for help were denied. She didn't qualify for Social Security Disability, for example, because her condition - thankfully - was not permanent, and she didn't qualify for TANF because she had no children at home.

After much persistence, Mamie was able to receive two types of public assistance: food stamps, which gave her a little something to eat, and subsidized housing, which reduced her already low rent to $16 a month. But with no income to speak of, and with no ability to work, even paying $16 a month was understandably difficult for Mamie. To a point, she was able to keep her home thanks to the kindness of her friends - but eventually, even they couldn't help, and she had literally nowhere else to turn.

Finally, as she faced the irony of beating brain cancer only to end up homeless, Mamie turned - not to Modest Needs (she doesn't have a computer or Internet access) - but to the American Cancer Society. Surely, she thought, this organization would be able to help her with one month's rent - $16.

But even the American Cancer Society couldn't help. LIke many conventional organizations, the American Cancer Society is permitted make grants to individuals only in very specific circumstances. In the case of the American Cancer Society, their charter permits them to assist individuals with only two types of expenses: nausea medication, and transportation to/from a doctor. When it comes to anything else, no matter how much funding they have, their hands are tied.

Rent is just not something that the American Cancer Society can do - not even for cancer surivors on the verge of homelessness as a result of their illness.

This is how Mamie came to learn of Modest Needs. The person at the American Cancer Society who took Mamie's call thought Modest Needs might be able to help. That person printed one of our applications from the website and mailed it to Mamie.

She sent that application to us.

And under the circumstances, we did what we do best.

We stood in the gap.

***

In February 2005, as a last resort, Mamie wrote to Modest Needs asking for $16 she just didn't have - enough to pay one month's rent, while she figured out what to do next.

On 1 March 2005, I had the pleasure of writing Mamie to tell her - thanks to your courageous generosity - that her $16 rent had already been paid.

For the rest of 2005.

Living the American Dream

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Like many first apartments, my first apartment was a total disaster, complete with paper-thin walls, worn beige carpet, faulty wiring, and a hot water heater that flooded the apartment on a regular basis. The kitchen was absolutely infested with cockroaches, so many of them that I could literally fill a 'roach motel' to capacity overnight. And at night, I would occasionally wake to what I described to my friends as 'strange hissing sounds' coming from the walls of my bedroom.

I didn't think much of them - those strange hissing sounds - until one day, after a year of those hissing noises keeping me up, my kitchen cabinets and all of their contents came crashing to the floor, completely destroying everything in my kitchen.

Only then did my landlord - to whom I'd complained many times about the state of my apartment - send a repairman to assess the damage. And only then did I learn that these 'hissing sounds' actually had been the sound of termites eating away at the roof over my head.

***

Try to imagine, for a minute, the worst apartment you've ever lived in, the one place you couldn't wait to leave, the one place you'd have left immediately - if only you could've afforded anyplace else to go.

Now, try to imagine raising not one, not two, but seven children in that apartment.

That's exactly the situation Noelle was in when she wrote to us in January 2005, to see if we would be willing to help her and her children to live the American Dream.

Noelle is a newly single mother, struggling to raise seven children in a house that I don't think any of us would've wished on our worst enemy. If my first apartment was a dump, her home was a certified health hazard.

I know, because I saw the pictures she sent to accompany her request for help.

Noelle wrote to Modest Needs because the house she was renting for her family was literally on the verge of collapse. A hole had opened in her living room ceiling, exposing everyone in the house to the winter wind. The house was full of wiring so faulty that it routinely overloaded the few appliances she had, and at night, if she turned on more than one light at a time, the light bulbs in her home exploded.

After many months of attempting to convince an unresponsive landlord to make repairs to her home, Noelle finally realized that she had no choice but to move. What she didn't know was how she'd ever be able to find a house that she could afford to rent, much less how she'd be able to pay the deposit that any new landlord would require.

Still, acting as much on faith as anything else, Noelle began the search for a new home for her family. After several weeks, she finally found a home that she could afford to rent, one that seemed perfect for her and her children. She went to see the house, met with the landlord, explained her situation . . . and couldn't believe it when the owner of this home offered to SELL the home to her outright, for $2500 down and owner-financed payments of $265 a month - $90 a month LESS than she had been paying to rent a death-trap.

By the time Noelle wrote to Modest Needs to explain her unique situation, she actually had in hand $2250 of the $2500 down payment that would allow her and her children to move from a home that ought to have been condemned and into a home that she and her children would be able to call their own.

But $2250 is not $2500, and when you're a single parent with seven mouths to feed, $250 might as well be $250,000. . . .

With time short - she had until 1 February to say 'yes or no' to this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and no family or friends able to help - Noelle wrote to Modest Needs and asked, almost apologetically, if we could remove the $250 obstacle separating her family from a home of their own.

And thanks to your kindness, that's exactly what we did.

On 1 February 2005, Noelle and her seven children packed the remainder of their belongings, loaded their car, ditched the death-trap, and drove to the new home where, because of your courageous generosity, they have just spent the first month of the rest of their lives - a lifetime they will spend living the American Dream.

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Giving Birth to Infinite Potential

Last week, I received a personal letter from someone we were able to assist in the first week of January 2005 that clarified for me - in a way that few other letters have - why Modest Needs exists, the importance of this work, and what we actually accomplish each time we are able to fund a request for help.

As such, it is a letter - and a story - that simply must be shared with this community.

The letter came from Jesse, a woman living in Washington State, and her request was simple: she asked for our help in putting a master's degree she already had earned to work for her family as a certified Childbirth Educator.

In order to work in this field, Jesse would be required to round out her already extensive education with one simple certification course. She had, in fact, already paid the $100 deposit for the course and had intended to remit payment for the remainder of it on her own, well in advance of her first scheduled class meeting.

And then - as has happened to all of us- the roof caved in. Between a bitterly cold winter (and the associated additional heating costs) and a short bout of quickly - resolved unemployment, this family simply didn't have on hand the funds necessary for Jesse to complete the course that would put her productively - and permanently - to work for her family's future.

What's worse, they stood to lose the $100 they'd set aside in better times to reserve a space for Jesse in the course.

In her request for help, Jesse explained quite eloquently her reason for turning to Modest Needs. She said (I've condensed somewhat, but these are her words):

'I am a natural teacher--I have a Master's in Education and taught public school for three years. When my second child was born and we discovered our first had a disability (moderate hearing loss and a severe speech delay), I knew that I needed to be with my kids at home. My husband works very hard to support us--we make ends meet most of the time. But I want to help out financially to our situation and thought that a childbirth educator course would be perfect--I could work nights and weekends while my husband is off and can take care of the kids. [More importantly,] I think that I can do a lot of good by supporting women in their time of greatest vulnerability - and greatest strength. I thank you for your consideration and time.'

For obvious reasons, Modest Needs' readers universally felt that this request ought to be funded if at all possible. And thanks to your generous support, it was possible.

Jesse's request is just one of 44 requests for help that we've been able to fund successfully in the past 45 days - a record for Modest Needs.

As is the case every time we offer to fund a request for help, I asked Jesse to provide us with documentation to substantiate all that she'd told us about her situation in her request for help. Along with these documents, she sent a personal letter - and it is that letter I want to share with you today, in its entirety - because though it came addressed to me, it is really a letter to all of you, without whom this work would not be possible:

It reads:

***

Dear [Modest Needs],

As I sit here tonight and ponder the gift you've given me, I keep coming back to one truth: this gift will change the course of my life. Profoundly. I'm also keenly aware that this gift is NOT about money:

*By becoming a childbirth educator, my experience and support may someday help another woman to be empowered and supported during her time of need. It will be a gift to her and her partner.

*By having a flexible schedule, I will be able to stay at home with my children during the day. It's a gift to them to have their mother present and involved in their lives.

*By becoming a childbirth educator, I will be able to help support my family in a way that brings joy and fulfillment to me each and every day. I'll not only be changing my family's financial future, I'll giving back in a way that is inspiring.

I had given up hope that this dream of mine would come true. I had nearly forgotten about Modest Needs because it seemed like such a long-shot. Just the day before my approval, my husband and I talked about how we could afford this class, and we were left with no answers. My jaw dropped and I cried happy tears as I read your approval email. I absolutely couldn't believe it.

I still can't.

Thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

With great joy,

Jesse

***

I think that all of us who support Modest Needs -myself included- have always understood that in making a small gift, we are working to give persons with nowhere else to turn the power to start down - or continue along - the path to personal prosperity & fulfillment.

But it was not until I read this letter that I really began to consider - really to consider -just how many lives we actually touch each time we are able to fund even one request for help.

As Jesse wisely points out, the gift we were able to make in her case is neither just about money no one else could offer, nor just about increasing her family's income on a permanent basis, though this certainly will certainly happen.

Rather, this gift - and Jesse's letter - demonstrate the power and importance of the work we do at Modest Needs by showcasing the 'infinite potential' of our unique approach to giving. That is to say, the gifts we make at Modest Needs do not begin and end with one person - the person who actually makes the request for help that we fund. In Jesse's case, the power of the gift (and the kindness behind it) will ripple outward in ever-expanding waves to touch the lives of Jesse's children, the persons whom she is able to assist in her new career, and the children who are born to those families.

In short, by using our small change to empower this one person to reach her full potential, we have empowered virtually every person that she will touch throughout the course of her new career.

I'd like to thank Jesse publicly for her gift, a letter that explains in clear and simple terms the power of the Modest Needs philosophy.

After all, Jesse is right.

If human kindness is a force with absolutely infinite potential, then the gifts we make at Modest Needs will absolutely never stop giving.

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

A Living Tribute to Human Kindness

I had promised to post news on Monday of this week to let everyone know exactly what kind of assistance we were able to offer as a community in response to the recent catastrophe in Asia. Having now caught up on the mail (I did my best to send personal responses to everyone who sent a comment beyond 'Please make the gift you propose as quickly as possible'), I want to get your weekends off to a joyous start by showcasing for you once again the community spirit - and courageous generosity - that sets Modest Needs apart from virtually every organization in the world.

As you might have guessed by now, the overwhelming majority of you (by an easy margin of 500:1) were in favor of making the one-time gift I had originally proposed - $672.50, representing $0.50 for each of 1,375 families that Modest Needs has been able to assist to date. In fact, many of you asked if we could increase the size of this gift through a special fundraising drive, and still others - persons with requests for help that actually were in the process of being funded by Modest Needs - wrote and asked that we give the funding already allocated to their families to the victims of the tsunami.

We did not go the fundraising route for reasons I'll explain in a moment. But you'll be thrilled to know that in the end, with no fundraising efforts of any kind, the Modest Needs community was able to make not one, but two equal gifts of $672.50 as a gesture of compassion to those affected by the tsunami, to two different organizations participating directly in the relief effort.

The first of our gifts went to Medecins Sans Frontiers (Doctors without Borders), an outstanding organization that allows doctors from across the world to volunteer their time and expertise in parts of the world that they would never otherwise be able to reach. Doctors without Borders was the first large organization 'on the scene' in locations throughout Southeast Asia after the tsunami, providing medical care to those who wouldn't have survived the catastrophe without immediate treatment. Our seemingly small gift of $672.50 was enough to send an additional doctor out into the field - and under these circumstances, I think the value of this type of gift to the persons who will survive because of it simply cannot be calculated.

Our second gift of $672.50 went to Oxfam, an organization that specializes in providing emergency food, clothing, shelter, and sanitation to communities and individuals affected by catastrophies like that caused by the tsunami. Though the American Red Cross provides similar services, I opted for Oxfam here because of their effeciency. Given the way that Oxfam works, our gift of $672.50 was enough to provide emergency rations to 160 people for an entire week - and that is likewise money well-spent.

That Modest Needs - a community built on the idea that small change does make a world of difference - was able to make a gift twice the size of the gift I originally proposed is nothing short of astonishing. But it is the reason we were able to make these gifts that sets the Modest Needs community apart, as a living tribute to human kindness.

You might remember that in the proposal I sent out last week, I did not include a link that would allow persons to donate to Modest Needs for this or any other purpose. This was not by mistake. You see, I knew that many organizations not specifically equipped to address the disaster in Asia directly would use the disaster as a type of fundraising opportunity, while some individuals would actually attempt to profit from it. If you've read the news in the last week or two, you already know this has happened in some cases, and there's no need to rehash the sordid details of this type of behavior here.

The fact of the matter is that at Modest Needs, we're always in need of your financial support. In any given month, we have more critical requests for help than we can possibly address with the funds we normally have on hand, and I'm always grateful when people make gifts or pledges - especially monthly pledges - of any size. I know that if I had asked you to give to Modest Needs in support of tsunami relief - or simply to support Modest Needs during this time of global crisis - many of you would've done so, and done so generously.

But that's something I wasn't willing to do. It just doesn't seem right to me to use a disaster of this magnitude as an opportunity to fundraise for unrelated programs, like the work we do at Modest Needs, no matter how noble or important those programs are to those we assist. It was for this reason that I opted to ask that we make the small gift I proposed from the funds we already had on hand, and that I did not ask members of this community to give to Modest Needs for this purpose.

All the same, we were able to make these two gifts because so many of you not only supported my proposal that we make this gift, but took spontaneous action to ensure that we could do so without affecting the lives of those persons who came to Modest Needs seeking a type of help that no other organization is able to provide.

Because of your spontaneous gifts over the last week earmarked for this purpse - all the more meaningful because they CLEARLY came from the heart - the Modest Needs community was able to make double the gift I proposed, without touching Modest Needs' general fund at all.

Over the past few days, we've seen on the news story after story of persons who have opened their hearts - and their wallets - to assist persons affected by the tsunami disaster in Asia. The gifts that the Modest Needs community was able to make in the past week - and the ones that we'll be making every week for all of 2005 - probably will not make any headlines.

But they will change lives.

And changing lives in this way - quietly, humbly, as we can, with what we have - this is the definition of courageous generosity, and the spirit that will carry Modest Needs forward into 2005, and beyond.

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

The Season of Miracles

I'm glad that in the United States, the holiday season begins with a day of Thanksgiving - a day where, as a nation, as families, and as individuals, we take time to count our blessings. It is perhaps the one day of the year when we feel the wealthiest, not because we suddenly become 'rich,' but because wealth begins with gratitude.

Of course, for all the joy it brings, the holiday season is not without its stresses. But somehow, getting the turkey just right, or wondering how you'll put that extra toy under the tree doesn't seem to matter so much when you read a letter from someone who has just gotten the news that her mother has about three months left to live.

In November, just before the start of the holiday season, Modest Needs received a request for help that really drove home to me the importance of gratitude - gratitude for all that we have - and all that we sometimes take for granted. The request came from Texas, from a woman named Rhonda whose mother had just been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.

This was to be her mother's last Christmas.

In her condition, Rhonda's mother needed close supervision, 24 hours a day. Luckily, her mother's insurance - Medicare - would pay for her mother to receive hospice care in the final weeks of her life. But placing her mother in a hospice is not something that happens over night. In the meantime, Rhonda's mother needed her daughter's help.

Like so many of us, Rhonda and her husband both work. And like so many of us, they depend on their paychecks - both of them - to meet their monthly expenses. So Rhonda was faced with a difficult choice. When her mother needed her most, she could continue to work and insure her family's financial future, or she could take an unpaid leave of absence, care for her mother, and pray for miracle.

In an act of courageous generosity - courageous because it involved a tremendous leap of faith - Rhonda chose the latter. She took an unpaid leave of absence from work so that she could offer her mother the care that only a child can provide.

As a result, Rhonda had lost some income. She could not make her November mortgage payment. And we all know that when you're living paycheck to paycheck, missing one mortgage payment - well, barring a miracle, that's the beginning of the end.

Rhonda requested help from Modest Needs in November - help to make a single mortgage payment. Actually, she asked for less than she needed - half of a mortgage payment - but it was clear to me that she really needed help with the whole thing.

I think everyone who supports Modest Needs would agree that this is exactly the reason we exist - to offer a helping hand in the midst of unexpected crisis. And speaking personally, I wanted very much for Modest Needs to be able to fund that request - especially during this, the season of miracles.

Only one thing was stopping us: shortly before receiving Rhonda's request, we'd disbursed all of the funding we had on hand. We were in one of our 'build up' periods at Modest Needs, waiting for people give so that we could fund more requests.

In the four days preceding Rhonda's request, we'd accumulated just over $550 in gifts - every one of them an act of kindness. But we were still about hundred dollars short of the amount we needed to keep this family going.

At Modest Needs, we may sometimes be short on money. But we're never short on miracles. I've watched, over and over again, as the unselfish acts of kindness that take place here have multiplied miraculously for almost three years. I was sure that somehow, we'd be able to help this family.

But I'd never have guessed that help would come in the form of toys.

Within days of receiving Rhonda's request, as I waited for the just the right miracle to come along, I received a letter from three children who heard about Modest Needs and - like so many of you - wanted to reach out to someone else who needed help.

As children, they obviously had no money. But they did have toys.

More toys than they thought they needed.

So at a time of year when many children are thinking about the toys they want to see under the tree, these children - ages 8, 6, and 4 (pictured above) - had a garage sale. In an act of profound maturity and tremendous generosity, they sold some of their toys. They sent the proceeds of this sale - $100.00 - to Modest Needs.

In this case, the courageous generosity of these children made a world of difference. Because of it, Rhonda won't be losing both her mother and her home this holiday season. And that's not all. By their example, these children have offered a gift to the child in all of us:

A reminder of why we are celebrating - and what really matters most - during this, the season of miracles.

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

The Power of Fiscal Fitness

Like millions of other Americans, I have struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember. But unlike millions of Americans, I know exactly when my struggle to control my weight began.

It began on the day I was born.

I was not a healthy child. I had a weak immune system, struggled with every imaginable childhood disease, and nearly succumbed to Scarlet Fever when I was three. One of my earliest memories, in fact, is of a doctor standing over my parents bed with a black bag, listening to my heart, because I was too ill even to go to the doctor's office.

My childhood illnesses left me underweight and unwilling to eat most of the time. In fact, my parents were so thrilled when I did eat that they allowed me to have anything that I wanted.

I think that, today, even my parents would acknowledge that this was a mistake.

Guided in my childhood eating habits only by my taste buds, I rapidly went from thin to overweight, and I remained overweight for most of my childhood. From time to time - especially during my teenage years - I tried to lose weight, by cutting down on the foods that I now knew were bad for me, but never with any real success. I'd lose ten pounds, and then gain twenty, all the while being ridiculed by virtually everyone I knew because of my size.

Finally, frustrated beyond words with the entire situation, I actually came to believe that - at least where my weight was concerned - there was no hope for me, that nothing about my situation would ever change. So I simply quit trying to lose weight. I ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it, and consoled myself (when I needed consolation) with more food.

As a result, by the time I was a freshman in college, I weighed over 320 pounds.

One year later, I began my sophomore year of college weighing 160 pounds - actually a little underweight for my height. And though I've never stopped struggling with my weight - I could stand to lose 25 pounds as we speak - I've now maintained the lion's share of that 160 pound weight loss for going on 17 years.

I know what you're asking yourself right now: How did I do it? What finally made the difference? Was it a special diet? Exercise? Well, yes. Both of those factors played an important part in that monumental weight loss.

But neither of those factors was as important as education. I lost weight - and kept it off - because I came to understand that my obesity was just a symptom of a larger problem:

I had never been taught how to manage my eating.

Once I learned the principles of weight management - and dedicated myself to applying those principles to my life, every day, without fail - at that moment, the weight came off, and stayed off.

It has come back only in those times when I've quit working to manage it.

I know that many of you can relate to my struggle with weight. But I know, at this point, you must be wondering what any of this has to do with Modest Needs, or courageous generosity?

The answer is, 'Absolutely everything.'

You see, in the same way that I struggled with my weight for years, I struggled with my financial situation for virtually all of my adult life. Nothing about that situation changed until, one day, I came to realize that my problems with money- the fact that I was constantly behind on my bills - might be, as my obesity was, a symptom of a larger problem: the fact that I'd never been taught how to manage what little money I did have effectively.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that these two problems - obesity, and my being constantly behind on my bills -had much in common. And so, I reasoned, perhaps the skills that helped me to manage my weight could help me better manage my money.

I mulled that over for years before finally deciding I'd had enough of struggling with money. Once I made that decision and applied the principles of weight management to my financial life - well, everything changed. As with the weight loss, there were no miracles involved. Applying these principles to my financial life certainly didn't make me rich - not by any stretch of the imagination.

But since making this change in my life - a change which ultimately inspired me to launch Modest Needs, and to keep it absolutely debt free - I've never come home worrying that there would be an eviction notice on my door.

That alone - the sense that I have some control over my life - has been worth every ounce of the time and energy I spent learning these principles, and every tough decision I had to make in order to apply them to my life.

I cannot possibly overstate the impact that these principles - principles that did not come naturally to me, principles that I had to learn - have had on my physical fitness and fiscal fitness alike. And as an educator, someone who believes in the power of knowledge to change lives, I'm proud to announce the addition of a new component to Modest Needs.

On 15 November 2004, we're replacing Modest Needs' conventional 'newsletter' with a unique 'Fiscal Fitness' program more than a year in the making. The goal of this program, which will draw on the lessons and personal experience to which I've alluded above, is to create a unique and entertaining resource where those who are fed up with struggling can find the financial knowledge, tools, and tips they need to regain and maintain control of their financial lives, even if they happen to be living paycheck to paycheck.

The lessons in Modest Needs' Fiscal Fitness program are not going to give you any 'get rich quick' secrets, because there aren't any. They won't change the constitution of your character, because nothing can.

But you should know that already.

What Modest Needs' Fiscal Fitness program can do - if you're willing - is give you the education that will put you back in the driver's seat, the power to control what happens to you financially and - ultimately - the power to practice, fearlessly, the courageous generosity you've been reading about here for over a year.

It also has a nice side effect: the principles involved in Modest Needs' Fiscal Fitness program work just as well for weight loss.

This I know from experience.

I'm thrilled to be able to offer this new program at Modest Needs - to get 'back into the classroom', providing information that matters to people who want it. But I want you to be excited too. And so, in preparation for the launch of Modest Needs' Fiscal Fitness program, on 1 November 2004, I'm going to show the members of this community how to make one small change in their lives that will save them - collectively - almost $1 million per month.

Impossible you say? Believe me, it's not.

And on Monday, 1 November, I'm going to prove it.

Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this very different 'Profile in Courageous Generosity.' As always, I've love to hear your comments. I'd also be grateful if you'd make gift or pledge of any size, so that we can get some assistance out to the persons who need your help the most.

Have a wonderful rest of your day!

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Priceless

On Monday, 9 August, in a special edition of the Modest Needs News-by-Mail, I told you the story of a family in Washington State who very much needed our help. Due to an unexpected and serious illness, this couple had been forced to make a choice no one should have to make: their health or their house payment.

This couple made they only choice they could make. They chose their health. And as a result, on 15 August, the couple's lifetime investment - their home - was going to be sold at auction.

This couple had written by mail (they have no computer) to ask for our help in saving their home. They needed $1200. I felt strongly that it was our moral imperative help this family, but because the amount necessary to save their home exceeded Modest Needs' maximum grant, I left it to all of you - the active members of Modest Needs - to decide whether we helped this family or not.

I asked you to vote with your dollars.

***

It has been 72 hours since I told subscribers to the Modest Needs News about this very special request for help. You - the people - have spoken.

And your message was overwhelmingly clear.

In the past three days, 277 individuals - more people than have ever made a donation to Modest Needs in a three-day period - put their money where their hearts were.

Many of these persons had never before given to Modest Needs.

The amounts these individuals were able to give varied widely. The average was about $13. But the impact of this level of giving cannot be measured in dollars and cents.

Thanks to this level of giving:

** A couple in Washington State on the verge of losing their home because of an unexpected medical expense is not losing their home at auction.

We kept their lifetime investment where it belongs - in their family.

Cost of this past due mortgage payment to Modest Needs? $1200.00
One less homeless couple in America? Priceless.

**A working family in Michigan, forced to relocate on seven days' notice when the house they were renting was sold out from under them, is not sleeping on the street tonight.

We're remitting payment for the deposit this family couldn't afford - the deposit that will allow them to move into the rental home they hadn't expected to rent.

Cost of this rental deposit to Modest Needs? $350.00
One more working family with a chance to succeed on their own? Priceless.

**A family of five in Ohio with an income of $700 per month is getting a permanent raise - because we're making it possible for the mother of these children to return to work.

On $700 a month with five mouths to feed, she couldn't afford the $60 fee necessary to have her license transferred from West Virginia to Ohio.

Together, however, we can.

Cost of this cosmetology license fee to Modest Needs: $60.00
One less family receiving state assistance: Priceless.

**And a two year old child from Rhode Island whose legs were born twisted is receiving the medical treatment that will allow her to walk correctly for the first time in her life.

Because this little girl can walk (just not correctly), the insurance company considers this procedure to be . . . 'cosmetic.'

We, the people, do not.

Cost of this medical treatment to Modest Needs: $395.00
A little girl able to run for the very first time? Priceless.

***

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is what just 2% of the subscribers to the Modest Needs News achieved YESTERDAY because they put their pocket change where their hearts were. They'll achieve even more tomorrow, as we work to disburse the additional $1500 surplus dollars these persons have made available to working families since Monday.

And how many working families will we help next week, when this $1500 is gone?

As always, that will be for each of you to decide. But that's another story for another day. . . .

Today, I'll simply leave you with this letter, from a woman in Arlington, TX, in response to Monday's news.

'I received your letter about the couple in Washington who is about to lose their home.

On June 29, 2004, for the same reasons as this couple, I lost my home at auction. I've been struggling ever since, but I'm sending MN the balance of my PayPal account to help this couple in Washington.

No one was able to save my home, but I can sure do my part to save theirs.

Tonight, for the first night in three months, I know I will sleep well.'

Donation made by this person to save the home of a couple she'll never meet? $14.49
Knowing you did for someone else what no one would do for you?

Priceless.

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

A Blur of Sound and Non-Sense

Any person who has ever had a child will tell you that what they say is true: you only think you've experienced love until you become a parent.

My experience has born out the truth of this statement. Aside from the doctor who delivered him, I was the first person ever to touch my son. In that moment, the moment that I first held my little boy, I knew that nothing my son could ever say or do would cause me to love him any less.

In that moment, I came to understand for the first time the meaning of unconditional love.

I was able to hold my son for about 60 seconds before he was taken to the infant Critical Care Unit in the hospital where he was born. His delivery had been difficult, and he'd been stuck without oxygen for several minutes in the birth canal. By the time he was born, he was ashen and generally unresponsive. He was breathing - but just barely.

If holding my son for the first time taught me the meaning of unconditional love, watching my son rushed away under these circumstances taught me what it is to be afraid. In that moment, when the very prospect of my son's life was uncertain, I would've gladly given everything I had, everything I ever would have, without thought or hesitation, to ensure that my son would live.

Today, my son is a happy, healthy seven year old. But nothing about my love for him - or my willingness to sacrifice on his behalf - has changed, except to grow stronger. Just when I don't think I could love him any more, my heart expands to contain my feelings for him. I would do absolutely anything for my son, and very few things make me happier than when, as a community, we can forever change the life of a child who needs our help.

In June 2002, Modest Needs received a request for help from a woman named Lisa, a teacher and mother of three living in Kentucky. Her request was simple. Her five year old son, Zane, had been born with a corneal disorder which made it impossible for Zane to see anything but an unfocused blur of color. Indeed, like all persons affected by this disorder, Zane's eyes did not even have the ability to discern one shape from another.

To him, the world was a blur of sound and non-sense.

Fortunately, Zane's disorder could be treated with special glasses. But these glasses are not cheap. Their lenses must be tailor-made to match the cornea of each eye of the person who will be wearing them. In my experience, a standard pair of eyeglass lenses runs about $100.

Irlen lenses run about $278.50.

Each.

And that's not counting the frames . . . .

At five, Zane was nearly ready to begin attending school, and as a teacher, his mother knew - as we all know - that he would not stand a chance of success in the critical early years of his education if he could not see. But hers was a family of five, living on just under $27,000 per year - too much to qualify for any kind of conventional assistance, but not enough to afford the lenses that would enable her son to see.

Lisa wrote to Modest Needs when Modest Needs was less than two months old to ask for our help in purchasing these glasses. But her request stands out in my mind to this day as evocative of the love parents have for their children, of a parent's willingness to sacrifice.

Lisa did not ask for the nearly $700 that these glasses would cost - because, she said, she knew we didn't have a great deal of money at our disposal and didn't want others not to receive help because of her. Instead, she requested only $55 - the ten-percent down payment which would allow Zane to have his glasses in time for the beginning of school, in August.

If we were able to help her with this amount, then in addition to her full-time job as a teacher, and in addition to caring for three children, Lisa pledged that she would happily take on a second part-time job in order to pay for the remainder of the balance due on Zane's glasses. This, she said, she would happily do if it meant that her son would stand a chance of success, and if others received help in the process.

I was both humbled and moved by the courageous generosity inherent in Lisa's request on behalf of her son - that she would ask for so little, despite magnitude and importance the request she was making. And had Lisa's request come this month, or in any other typical month, perhaps we'd only have been able to help her with the ten percent down payment that she's requested - if we'd been able to help her family at all.

But June 2002 was an unusual month for Modest Needs. That month, Modest Needs had been featured on both NPR and in USA Today - and despite Modest Needs' youth, people had given - $5 and $10 at a time - nearly $14,000.

So, thanks to the generosity of those who believed in Modest Needs even in its infancy, I was able to write a letter to Lisa that I wish I could write more often - a letter saying, 'Modest Needs will be happy to pay for the cost of these lenses in full if you can find a way to provide the frames.'

Three weeks later, Zane was fitted for his glasses. And on that day, something happened that none of us - not even Lisa - had expected. I would not learn about this event until October 2002, when Lisa told the story of what happened when Zane put on his glasses for the first time on the CBS Early Show.

It was the first of what would become many times that the generosity of this community has moved people to tears.

I'd invite you to watch as Lisa herself tells the story of what happened when Zane first put on the glasses that Modest Needs was able to purchase, thanks to this community's generosity. You can see the Early Show segment in which Zane is featured by simply clicking one of the links below. If you're using windows, playback will begin automatically:

High-quality video (WMV format, 54.5 MB)
Medium-quality video (WMV format, 3.7 MB)

There's a post-script to this 'Profile in Courageous Generosity', one that I'm saving until Friday, because I want all of you to have seen this story before I share with this community some information that no one else has seen. Suffice to say that kindness breeds kindness, generosity begets generosity, and as a result, another child's life is just about to be forever changed. . . .

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Profiles in Courageous Generosity: A Promise Fulfilled

In May of 2002, just as Modest Needs was beginning what would become nearly six months of constant coverage in the press, I received an e-mail from someone who purported to represent a very large, very well-known, extremely well-funded public charity. I opened that letter, which I have never published or discussed publicly until now, with a sense of breathless anticipation. After all, I knew -just by looking at the e-mail address - that the organization from which this e-mail originated had the power to fully endow Modest Needs with little more than the stroke of a pen.

As I began reading that letter, I remember hoping that it would contain an offer of moral, perhaps even financial support. But it contained neither.

It was instead a terse, personal admonition - of me personally (for starting Modest Needs in the first place) and of Modest Needs itself, an organization which this person said ultimately would serve only 'to divert precious dollars away from organizations like [his], where those funds might have the power to do some actual good.'

I was so disturbed by the content of this letter that I actually contacted both this organization's national headquarters (which promptly denied sharing this individual's sentiment) and the individual who had sent this letter to me in the first place. He and I had, at best, a tense telephone conversation, most of which I remember as if the conversation had happened yesterday.

'Look,' this person said to me with a chuckle, 'the very premise of what you're doing is naïve. If you'd read any of the relevant studies, you'd know that very few people give just because helping others 'is the right thing to do.' The truth is, the 'average' people who give at all only give once or twice a year -mostly at Christmas. That's not to say that their gifts aren't important, but by themselves, they don't have much of an impact beyond the month in which they're made.'

'The people with the power to make a real difference,' he continued, 'wealthy families, for example, give for the recognition involved, because giving is good PR for them. It shows them to be 'generous.' Corporate giving works the same way. A $1 million gift costs a corporation making a $1 billion a year about one one-thousandth of its net yearly revenue. But it generates fifty times that amount in good PR, and - ultimately - in profit.'

'If you have any social conscience at all,' he said, 'you'll stop this nonsense now and refer whatever donors you have to organizations like ours.'

'Two years from now,' I said, 'Modest Needs will have proven everything you just said to be wrong.'

'No,' he said, 'Here's what will happen. Six months from now, you'll have given away everything that you have. Modest Needs will cease to exist. Your effort will be forgotten. And the dollars that persons give to your 'organization' in the meantime - gifts that, when combined with the gifts of 'major donors,' might've done some real good - will have been wasted.'

'That,' he concluded, 'will be your only legacy.'

'We'll see,' I said.

And I hung up the phone.

Two years have now elapsed since this phone conversation. And I can now say, with some authority, that this individual was wrong about the 'average' person, the measure of their generosity and - more importantly - the true value of an unselfish gift, of this community's courageous generosity.

You see, the 'relevant studies' don't take into account a promise that I believe in, the promise that led me to start Modest Needs, and the promise that - I suspect - underlies much of the giving that takes place here. That promise is a simple one, and it is promise common to every spiritual faith.

It is the promise that unselfish gifts are multiplied until they become worth many times their original value.

How does the work we've been doing - successfully - for two years now at Modest Needs illustrate the power of the principle behind this promise? That question is best answered by example:

On 1 June 2004, I received a letter from a woman named Denise, which I'm editing for the sake of brevity:

***

Dear Keith,

In August of 2002 I requested help from Modest Needs with a desperately needed vehicle repair. Modest Needs funded my request ($175.00). This letter is about what the funding of my vehicle repair meant to me and what it allowed me to do.

Without the funding for this request, my van would have broken down and I would not have been able to get back and forth to work. The funding for this request allowed me to continue working and to keep supporting myself and my children.

I will be forever grateful for the grant which allowed me to stay self supporting! I have just now become able to make a monthly donation to Modest Needs and I will forever make that donation! Modest Needs helped me at a time when no one else could! I can't find the words to express how grateful I am for the help I have received!

Denise

***

It cost the Modest Needs community only $175 - a gift which persons made $5 and $10 and $25 at a time in August of 2002 - to fix Denise's car, to keep her gainfully employed. That's a small gift, to be sure - the financial equivalent of a loaf, and a fish.

But let me show you how that gift has multiplied . . . both miraculously, and mathematically.

I do not know how much money Denise makes, but a person working a standard full time job (40 hours a week at $10 an hour) in Washington State, where Denise lives, takes home $1519.48 after taxes. By contrast, a person who is newly unemployed with no income receives a cash TANF (welfare) benefit of $540 a month, plus $294 in food stamps. That's a net cost to Washington State of $840 a month, and a net cash loss to a working individual of $679.48 a month, not just for one month, but for every month that he or she is unemployed.

And statistically, once a person becomes unemployed and must turn to the state to survive, it takes a minimum of 24 months for that person to return to self-sufficiency.

Because of the courageous generosity of this community - a community comprised exceptional 'average' persons, however, Denise didn't lose her job. Because you fixed her car, she kept working. And the minute you fixed her car, the minute you kept her working, you also put $679.48 in cash into her pocket. You simultaneously saved Washington State $840.00 - the amount that the state did not have to spend to support her and her children.

This means that in August 2002 - the month that this gift was made - a $175 gift, for a car repair, multiplied in this way to become instantaneously worth $1694.48. And every month that Denise has continued working - that's 23 months now - the value of that gift to Denise has increased by $679.48 a month - the amount she has been able to earn every month because you kept her from becoming unemployed - and $840 a month to Washington State - the amount it has not had to spend to support her.

When you do the math, you suddenly see that, as of the 1 June 2004, this simple $175 gift has now increased in value to the point that it has become worth $15,628.04 in additional income to Denise, and $19,320.00 in tax dollars saved by Washington State.

Add these amounts to the cost of the original gift itself, and you see that, this $175 gift - this simple act of kindness - has increased in value over 23 months to the point that it has now become worth approximately $35,123.04.

And what is the part of your own courageous generosity here? Well, in this case, if you made a one-time $5 gift in August 2002, and that gift was part of the original $175 we used to fix Denise's car, then over the 23 months that your gift has kept Denise working, that $5 has become worth $446.50 in cash to Denise's family and $552.00 to the state in which she lives.

Add these figures together, then add your original $5 gift to that total, and you see that in 23 months, the value of your original gift of $5 has multiplied to the point that, as of today, it has a value of approximately $1,003.50. And on 1 July, so long as Denise is still working, that number will change.

It will increase.

Such has been the value of a simple, unselfish gift to one family for whom the courageous generosity of the 'average' person has been the ounce of prevention that kept the pound of cure from being necessary.

And that's one - out of 1,212 families this community has assisted to date.

It is one thing to believe in a promise. It is another to see that promise fulfilled. And today, after two months of compiling two years' worth of data, of doing math (I don't like math), and of having these calculations checked several times, I can now show you the evidence of a simple promise fulfilled - and the power of the principles behind that promise.

Today, I am proud to show the members of this community the true impact of the courageous generosity you have shown at Modest Needs. Once you've seen this information, I don't think you'll ever view your 'small change' in the same way. And the question as to Modest Needs' effectiveness, or the 'value' or 'significance' of an 'average person's gift'?

That question will not ever be raised again.

So sit down. Take a deep breath. Prepare yourself. And then read today's Community Update . . . .

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Profiles in Courageous Generosity: The Ice-Cream Sandwich Blockade

Like everyone, I have my good days and my not-so-good days. On my not-so-good days, the days when I find myself temporarily overwhelmed or facing a difficult situation, the one thing I want, worse than anything else, is to laugh.

Laughter has long been my personal drug of choice, and for good reason. It's well documented, for example, that people who laugh actually live longer - up to twenty years longer - than people who don't laugh on a regular basis. Laughter acts as an antidote to both physical and psychological pain. It relaxes our muscles, fills our lungs with oxygen, increases our cardio activity, decreases stress - and, according to one recent study, it even has the power to boost our immune system's ability to fight disease.

There's just no denying the power of humor to heal us. And when I need a quick dose of laughter - for me, the very best medicine - one of my favorite pharmacies would have to be www.dumblaws.com, a website that lists, by state, laws which are still 'on the books,' despite the fact that they make absolutely no sense whatsoever.

For me, the humor of www.dumblaws.com lies not so much in the laws themselves, but in trying to understand the reasoning (or lack thereof) behind them. I mean, we all understand why it's illegal to run a stop sign. That makes perfect sense. But does it make sense to you:

That in Pennsylvania, all fire hydrants must be checked one hour before all fires?
That in Alaska, it is illegal to push a moose out of an airplane?
That in Nevada, it is illegal to drive a camel on the highway?
That in Florida, having sexual relations with a porcupine is against the law?

I have to admit, there is a twisted logic behind most of these laws. Nobody wants to be hit in the head by a free-falling moose, after all. Can you imagine being stuck behind a camel on Route 66? And as for sexual relations with a porcupine? Well, I must say, that law actually makes so much sense to me that I can't help but wonder what event prompted its legislation in the first place. Wouldn't you have loved to have been in the gallery of the Florida state legislature on the day that this bill was introduced?

Unfortunately, though, not all dumb laws are quite this funny.

I can think of at least one dumb law that you won't see on www.dumblaws.com In Baltimore City, if a person does not pay, in a timely fashion, any and all monies owed to any city-owned utility, the city of Baltimore may, at its discretion, repossess and sell at public auction any city property owned by the debtor - including the land on which the debtor's home stands.

I came to learn about this law in May of 2002, when Modest Needs received a request for help from a woman named Madeline, who was living in Baltimore, MD. Madeline and her husband were the parents of five children under the age of 18. Madeline's husband had a good and steady job, but as you might guess, with seven mouths to feed, money for these folks was understandably tight most of the time.

In December of 2001, Madeline and her husband had been shocked to receive an almost unbelievably large water bill from Baltimore city. Upon investigation, they'd discovered a leak in their basement, which they had promptly repaired. That stopped the flow of water, but the city of Baltimore refused to give this working family any lee-way when it came to their water bill. As far as Baltimore was concerned, the water had been used, and somehow, someone was going to pay for it.

Madeline and her husband had made payment arrangements with the city of Baltimore and done their best to pay their bill down. They'd made some progress, but with regular monthly water bills (and other bills of all sorts) still coming in, they weren't able to make headway quickly enough to please the city of Baltimore. And so, on 2 April 2002, Madeline and her husband received notice that the lot on which their home sat was going to be seized and sold at auction by the city so that their water bill could be paid, in full.

Now, you must be asking yourself, 'How big was that water bill?' I mean, if the city of Baltimore is going to sell the lot on which your home stands, thereby rendering the structure itself worthless, over a past due water bill, you'd think this would be a serious debt.

So how much do you think that bill was for? $1,000? $5,000? $10,000?

How about $310.09?

That's right. This working family was going to lose the entire value of their largest lifetime investment at an auction, held by the city of Baltimore, over a $310.00 water bill.

My first response to this request for help, honestly, was not to believe it, just because it seemed so patently ridiculous. I simply couldn't fathom that any city, anywhere in America, would opt to sell a family's home at auction over a mere $310.00 water bill - not a tax bill, mind you, but a utility bill! Cutting them off - that I'd understand. That would make sense. But to sell their property at auction? To render seven people effectively homeless? Over $310.00?

That would be patently absurd.

So I asked Madeline to scan and send me the water bill and auction notice. She did, and I'm sorry to report that every word of her story was absolutely true.

Disbelief turned immediately to outrage. Of course, Modest Needs would help this family. There was no question about that. But there was one small problem. It was Friday, 10 May 2002. The auction was scheduled for Monday morning, 13 May 2002. And as of that Friday morning, the balance in Modest Needs' bank account was just about $267.00 - roughly $56.00 short (by the time you count the express payment fees) of the amount necessary to save this family's home.

At that time, Modest Needs was less than eight weeks old. People had yet to really learn about Modest Needs. In those early weeks, Modest Needs' only stable source of funding was the $350 a month that I gave, every month, and much of that already had been spent. The $267.00 in the bank at that time represented the remainder of my own pledge, plus a handful of small gifts that people had made that month - $5 here, $10 there, the occasional $25 check. The mail hadn't come yet that day, but in those early weeks, even on a good day, Modest Needs could expect to receive about $25 in gifts. $5 or $10 - or nothing at all - was more likely.

So I spent that Friday morning wringing my hands, trying to figure out how in the world I was going to come up with the $56 necessary to save this home. Lots of ideas crossed my mind. I could take up a collection at one of my local hangouts. I could call friends or family. I could sell some used DVDs. But really, none of those options was feasible because they all took precious time. In order to pay that tax bill in time to stop the auction - online would be the only way to do it - I had to have that money in the bank by the close of business Friday. Otherwise, I simply couldn't pay the bill, and this family's home would be lost forever.

Obviously, what I really needed was a miracle. That's what I asked for, on the way to the post office.

And that's exactly what I got.

That day in the mail, there were three envelopes. Two contained checks, each for $10. The third, from a local school, contained the miracle I'd asked for - a miracle in the form of ice-cream money.

The letter inside the envelope, from one of the teachers at the school, explained that she had heard about Modest Needs because of a story that had run in the local press. In class the next day, she had told her students about Modest Needs, and as a class, they had opted to give up 'lunchtime extras' (read: ice cream) for one day in an effort to help somebody else. The teacher had made a small donation herself and asked the school to cut a check on her class's behalf.

The enclosed check was for $40 exactly - just a few dollars more than necessary to pay off the city of Baltimore. And at 11:51pm on Sunday, 12 May 2002 - nine minutes before the final deadline - the auction of this family's home was stopped, thanks to the courageous generosity of these children - and the power of their ice-cream sandwich blockade.

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Profiles in Courageous Generosity: Two Crumpled Dollars

In mid-March, on a cold Saturday afternoon (every day for the past six months has been ridiculously cold in New York), I found myself out, walking down Sixth Avenue, in a part of the city called the 'Union Square Area.' This part of New York, which runs for about six square blocks, is home to an unusually large segment of New York's homeless population - so large a segment, in fact, that it is virtually impossible to walk through this section of New York and remain oblivious to the reality of all that homelessness entails- a cruel reality that many of us, thankfully, have never known.

Think, for a moment, of the difference between a 'house' and a 'home.' Homelessness is not called 'houselessness' for a reason. People who are homeless do not merely lack shelter. Theirs are lives defined by the absence of love, compassion, and the security we draw from those who care about us - the very elements that make a house into a 'home.'

Homelessness does not just mean owning nothing that you can't carry or wear, or having no shelter but that temporarily provided by the state. Homelessness is best defined by the sense of abandonment that comes in the moment you realize that you have no person even in your family to whom you can turn for support in your time of crisis. The realization that this is true cannot help but crush a person's spirit, and if the eyes are the windows to the soul, then to look into the eyes of a homeless person is to understand what it means for the human spirit to die.

That's what I remember most about Jessica. I remember the look in her eyes while she told me the story of how she lost her home.

Jessica is a young woman who I literally tripped over just off Union Square on that cold Saturday afternoon in mid-March. I had been lost in thought, and I didn't see her at all until I stumbled over her, causing her to spill the small cup of change that she had been holding in her lap. I was immediately embarrassed, told her I was sorry and stooped to help her scoop up her change.

'That's OK,' she said, almost despondently, as if she had all but expected someone to kick her change cup over.

It was only as I was handing back her small cup of change that I looked - really looked - at Jessica for the first time. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something different about this homeless person. Suffice to say that if 'homelessness' has a look, Jessica didn't have that look about her - except for in her eyes.

That much I remember for certain.

It was only then that I noticed the sign in front her. It said - in perfectly printed handwriting:

'Homeless five more days. Still hungry. Help if you can.'

The sign intrigued me. Why five more days? I was curious. And so I offered to buy Jessica a meal.

It was hard for me to persuade Jessica to come with me. She obviously didn't trust me, but I was eventually able to convince her to come with me to a diner just down the block. We sat down, and Jessica ordered French Toast, Sausage, Bacon, coffee and milk. She ate every bite of plate that was put in front of her. And while she ate, she told me her story, the story of how she came to lose her home.

It was a story that put every crisis I'd ever thought I'd experienced into immediate and harsh perspective.

Jessica was 20 years old. She was from New Jersey. For all of her life, she and her brothers had lived with her mother.

They had never really known their father.

By all accounts, Jessica had lived a fairly normal life up until the beginning of this year. She'd grown up, gone to school, had wanted to pursue a career in the culinary arts. But in January of 2004, Jessica's mother had decided that she wanted to marry, and the man Jessica's mother had been dating refused to marry her if doing this meant taking on the burden of supporting three children that were not his. He gave Jessica's mother an ultimatum: she had to choose between marrying him and continuing to care for her three children, the youngest of whom had just turned 18.

And so, in January of this year, Jessica's mother had given each of her three children $25, put them on the street, and told them that they were no longer welcome in her home. Jessica's brothers had opted to hitchhike to Florida. She hadn't heard from them since. She had called her mother from payphones several times in the first four weeks that she had been on the street. The phone had only been answered only once, and that time, Jessca's would-be stepfather had told Jessica not to call there again - that as far as he and her mother were concerned, she didn't have a home there anymore.

Jessica had spent the time since mid-January (the coldest winter in New York in many years) on the street, living off the change that people had dropped in the cup in front of her (apparently, about $8 a day.) But she was not content to stay on the street. Within a week or two of having lost her home, she had found and applied for entry into a transitional program for homeless women. This program provided the basics - food and shelter - to women who demonstrated their commitment to self-sufficiency by seeking employment. Once they had found work, this program helped the women to transition to a more stable living environment.

This was the reason for Jessica's sign, 'Homeless Five More Days.' After six weeks of living on the street, she had called the director of this program to learn that a space in this program had opened up and that she would be officially 'off the streets' as of the following Friday. After six weeks of experiences that she described for me but which are better left to everyone's imagination, all that stood between Jessica and a new start were five frigid nights.

Throughout this entire conversation, Jessica didn't ask me for anything - not even a nickel. What she did was stare at me. And her eyes - I won't ever forget the look in her eyes. She looked at me as if to say, 'Why do you care about any of this?' I think that's understandable. When your own mother throws you onto the street with $25 and whatever clothes you can carry, you have no reason to believe that a stranger could have any real interest in hearing your story - much less that a stranger would care.

That thought, more than anything else, really moved me. And I wanted this community to do something -whatever we reasonably could- to let this person know that there were people out there who cared about her, simply by virtue of her humanity.

So before I left her that day - right under the awning where I had found her - I asked for the number of the director of the program she'd mentioned. She gave it to me, and I called. Every word of Jessica's story - the parts that were verifiable - checked out.

I spent part of that Saturday evening on the phone with some local hotels explaining what Modest Needs was, and what we wanted to do. Eventually, I was able to find a small, clean, and safe hotel - with breakfast included - that was willing under these special circumstances to give us a room for five days at half price. That done, I went back to Union Square, found Jessica right where I'd left her, and told her that on behalf of a lot of really nice folks, she had a warm place to sleep for the next five days, until she could enter her program.

At first, Jessica refused to believe I was telling her the truth. She simply couldn't fathom that anyone would want to help her. What was the catch? What did I expect in return? Why would anyone do this for her? It was only at this point that I told Jessica about Modest Needs, who we were, what we did. And I explained, very simply, that we wanted to help her because we wanted her to know how much she was worth to all of us.

Jessica started to cry at that point, and she was still crying as I helped her carry her bag up to the room we'd found for her. Before I left, I gave her my card and my phone number, and asked her to call me when she'd gotten into the shelter safely. She promised that she would. I wished her the best, told her goodbye, and turned to leave.

I was closing the door behind me when I heard Jessica say, 'Wait.' I turned around, and wiping her eyes, Jessica came over to where I was standing. Without saying a word, she took my hand, held it open, and poured the contents of her change cup into my palm. She closed my hand around the change, looked into my face, and smiled.

As I smiled back, I noticed that Jessica's eyes were not the eyes I'd seen that afternoon.

Her eyes had begun to sparkle. And I don't think it was just because of the tears.

The small amount of funding that we used to help Jessica certainly didn't end homelessness in New York. But I think it might've helped to restore one young woman's faith in humanity. And request number 36368, 'Mom of 2 Needs Help With Rent,' made in March 2004, was funded, in part, by $2.68 in change, donated to Modest Needs by a person who may not yet have a permanent residence, but who, thanks to this community's generosity, isn't quite homeless in the way that she was before.

***

There's an interesting post-script to this story. About a week later, I did speak to Jessica again. She called to say that she did make it into the program and that she was looking for work in one of New York's many kitchens. I thanked her for calling to let me know, and that, I thought was the last I'd hear from Jessica.

But then, the strangest thing started happening. Perhaps this is coincidence. I'll leave that for each of you to decide.

Every other week since the end of March, I have received a plain white envelope in the mail. There is never a return address. No correspondence of any kind. Just a plain white envelope. A New York City postmark.

And inside?

Two crumpled dollars.

No Title

11/11/2009 2:35:03 PM

Profiles in Courageous Generosity: The 'Hope Diamond' becomes the Mustard Seed

I'm one of those people who loves spicy food - the hotter the better. In a city where I once lived, there was a restaurant that served what they called 'Atomic Chicken Wings,' made from their own patented recipe. I don't know exactly what went into the 'atomic' sauce that coated these wings. I do know that, once the wings were coated with this sauce - whatever it was - they were rolled in pure cayenne pepper. In fact, the wings so spicy that they came with a waiver and a promise that if you could finish ten of them in one sitting, your entire party's meal was 'on the house.'

I am one of exactly six people that I know of ever to have had a free meal as a result of the 'guarantee' that came with those chicken wings. And, oddly, I enjoyed the experience of eating them. Going into that restaurant, I knew very well that in eating ten of these 'atomic wings,' I might have done permanent damage to my digestive tract, but I was too young and reckless to care. I only knew that, given my passion for spices, to have eaten those wings any other way would've been a kind of compromise, and therefore, a waste of my time.

I have to confess that, even as I was writing last week's editorial - the story of the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' - I was often thinking, not about precious stones, but about spices. Specifically, last week, I was thinking about mustard.

Apparently, so were many of you.

Many persons who read the story behind the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' last week wrote to say that the story reminded them of the Biblical parable of the 'mustard seed.' The parable itself, like the story of the 'Hope Diamond,' is profound in its simplicity. In it, Christ compares a mustard seed to the kingdom of heaven, saying, in part, 'it is the least of all seeds, but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs. . . .'

In fact, within moments of my publishing this first 'Profile in Courageous Generosity,' letters began pouring in to Modest Needs. Some persons wrote simply to thank the donor of this diamond, not for the diamond itself, but for the gift of hope they found in the spirit behind this person's gift. Others wrote to thank the donor for giving them the inspiration to become (or remain) courageous themselves, even despite the financial setbacks we all have endured from time to time. One person even went so far as to suggest that we take steps to ensure that the symbolism of the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' remains at forefront our community's collective memory, saying:

'Since you're going to highlight a donor and recipient each month, why not select one of each per year to receive the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' award? Of course, it wouldn't be the real diamond, perhaps just a certificate with a copy of the photo you've shown us already.' (Note: I must say that I think this is a terrific idea: the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' Award!)

But these stories - stories of persons who found themselves inspired by a single person's selfless act of kindness - are but one measure of the impact of this most courageous gift.

Over the weekend, four persons wrote to bid on the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond'. More significant than the dollar amounts that these persons bid, though, were the remarkable stories of courageous generosity that accompanied each bid. Space prevents me from sharing all of these letters with you today, but I promise you, those letters - and the stories behind the persons who wrote them - will soon find their way into this column. They are stories that deserve to be shared, stories that further underscore the selflessness and generosity that remain the hallmarks of the Modest Needs community.

In the end, though, only one person could place the winning bid on the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond', and that person - Sonal, from North Carolina - was thrilled to learn that that this 'invaluable treasure' was coming his way. But, just as the parable of the mustard seed does not end when the seed is planted, the story of the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' and its significance to this community does not end with Sonal's high bid of $250 on the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' . . .

That is only the beginning of the rest of this story . . . .

Within 24 hours of writing to Sonal and declaring him to be the 'high bidder' on the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond', two persons wrote in, each with a bid of $500. When I told both of these persons, who have opted to remain anonymous, that I couldn't accept their bids for obvious reasons, they both offered to match Sonal's bid of $250, thereby instantly tripling the power of the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' to assist others.

And, in a most unexpected turn of events, one person was so moved by the story behind the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' that he decided to do something special to acknowledge both the sacrifice of the person who donated the diamond and the kindness of the 'Hope Diamond' bidders themselves. To this end, in honor of the 'Hope Diamond' contributor, this person made a gift of $1000, plus a pledge of $100 monthly for the next 12 months. Likewise, in honor of those persons who so courageously offered literally all they had to give in their bids for the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond, this person made a gift of $600 - an amount equal to the total of all bids received on the diamond as of 29 March 2004.

Last week, I reported that the donor of the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' asked only to know which person the diamond had been able to help. Tomorrow, I will have the pleasure of writing to this person with the news that, as a result of this simple act of courageous generosity, in April 2004 alone, Modest Needs will be able to distribute an additional $2350 to persons who would not have received the help they needed otherwise.

And this is to say nothing of the 'Hope Diamond' donor's greatest gift to this community. With this single courageous act of kindness, the donor of the Modest Needs 'Hope Diamond' has sewn once again into this community the seeds hope, inspiration, and generosity - seeds that once planted, like the mustard seed of the parable, simply have no choice but to grow.