Donation from the Heart

"Some old guy's here," my older daughter said. She had stopped by for a visit and was on her way out...headed to work. No clue about who the "old guy" might be, I answered the door right away. There were plenty of people at home with me, and it was the middle of the day. There was nothing to fear.

I knew the "old guy" pretty well...and he wasn't all that old. In fact we'd met when our boys (his oldest and my middle) were in Kindergarten. The boys had grown up together and played together in a couple of rock bands. For a few years one boy was always at the other one's home.

Holding out a $50 bill, he announced his arrival with few words.

"Four tickets, please," he stated.

He'd seen the article in the newspaper about the fundraiser our daughter Elizabeth was hosting last week, and he'd come by to support the effort. Elated, Elizabeth ran off to find four tickets, and a ten dollar bill for change.

"Keep the change," he said. "It's for a good cause, and I'm happy to see young people helping society."

"Who are you bringing?" I asked; assuming he and his wife would use the tickets and bring a couple of friends.

"We may not even go," he replied. "My wife is in bed."

"I'm sorry," I said, giving him a big hug.

If I ended the story right here, you'd be left thinking, "Okay, so what? Some guy she knew showed up and bought some tickets to her daughter's fundraiser."

But the story doesn't end there. In fact it's where it actually starts that adds the depth to this particular donation.

On Christmas Day, this "old guy" and his wife and daughter were at home, waiting for their son to arrive. The son is the boy that grew up with my middle boy. Rather than being greeted by warm Christmas wishes and gifts, they were contacted by the local police department and advised to go straight to the hospital. Their son and brother had taken his own life by jumping from a building that was several stories high.

We attended the service. The "old guy" didn't remember us being there.

"I don't remember much about it at all," he said.

And yet just over three weeks later he arrived on our doorstep because of reading about our daughter's fundraiser in the paper. We all were stunned.

I don't know how the human heart recovers from a tragedy like this one. I don't know how parents find the strength to shower, dress and go out into the world after the loss of a child in this way. Obviously this man's wife hadn't yet found such strength. I pray that one day the healing will begin.

In the meantime my family is struck by the generosity shown in light of these horrendous circumstances. Despite this man's grief, he took the time to acknowledge and participate in my daughter's work, and that made the simple act of giving his monetary donation an unforgettable gift from the heart.