God works in mysterious ways ...including, apparently, through the internet. Last year, my life changed because of something that appeared when I logged onto my AOL account. There was a pop-up with a caption that read: "News That Will Make You Smile." I guess I wanted to read something positive that might make me feel a little better about myself and about our world, so I hit the link. And my world changed.
There was a short account of a woman who had read an article about a man with a rare blood type who was in desperate need of a kidney. As it turns out, this woman had the same rare blood type. She contacted the person in need and, to make a long story short, she was able to donate one of her kidneys and save his life.
The next link ...
I've got to admit that there was a moment or two of elation and then panic and then resolve as if a fist had reached out and clenched my heart, squeezed it tightly to the breaking point, and then gently released it. I absolutely knew that there was somebody out there who needed my help. I knew that I had to take some kind of action, and I knew that somehow I could make a difference.
There was a link at the end of the article for more information about kidney disease and organ transplants. I clicked the mouse, and I was off on a very personal journey.
I didn't talk to anybody about this, not even my husband, Tim. I just very quietly went onto a website and somewhat hesitantly added my name to a list of potential donors. Although there were plenty of hopeful people listed who needed kidneys, I decided to sit back and wait. Honestly, I am so fearful of doctors, needles, and blood, that just the thought of enduring anything more than the annual necessary medical procedures, gave me moments when I, too, thought I might be crazy to even consider the possibility of donating a kidney. I've never even been brave enough to donate blood.
The hardest phone call ...
Months went by, and then one day I got a phone call from a person in New York who needed help from someone with B+ blood. He knew it was a long shot, since seven people closely related to him had already failed to be a match, but he told me his daughter saw my listing and gave him the push he needed to call me. Can you imagine how hard it was for him to make that call? I wonder how many times he dialed the number and hung up before it rang
Only a relatively small percentage of people share our blood type, thereby greatly reducing the odds of a match. We spoke for a while, and it became clear that he had a great deal of living left to do. He didn't beg or use guilt. He simply told me the facts and asked if I could help. I said yes. Once again, I felt my heart being squeezed and then gently released. In that moment, I absolutely knew that, despite the odds, I would be a match, that I would survive whatever physical discomforts were involved, and that the surgery would be successful. Despite the fact that I was very afraid, I knew that I had a job to do, and so the process began.
The waiting process ...
I told very few people what was going on. Information was on a "need-to-know" basis. It wasn't an easy decision to explain, and I caused a great deal of angst among the people with whom I had shared this secret. My daughter was particularly concerned that I would risk surgery. In fact, I was almost un-invited to her wedding because she was so upset with me.
Unlike TV medical dramas, nothing this big gets neatly resolved in an hour-long episode. It took about eight months of testing and re-testing, never-ending medical exams, trips to New York (because the recipient was too ill to travel), and paperwork like you wouldn't believe. I even had to meet with psychiatrists to convince them that I was aware of what the surgery involved. "Are you aware that you can't get your kidney back?" "Yes, I understand." "And what makes you want to do this? Do you know this man? Has he offered you money?" Yes, I understand. Well, yes, I've met him, but, no, I don't really know him. He found me on the internet. Yes, the internet. No, there's no money involved. I can't really explain why I'm doing this. I think this is what I am supposed to do. Sorry, I just can't explain it any better than that." I must have sounded crazy.
Finally ...
On a very cold January morning, Tim and I arrived at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in New York City. By then, it had become a group project. The construction workers who were building our house offered to take care of our many horses and dogs so that Tim could come with me to New York. Tim would have to leave before I came out of recovery to get back to Florida, but Margot Garfield-Anderson (who has worked at The Montessori Foundation so long she's become family) flew to New York to help me get back home after I was released from the hospital.
After the surgery, my recipient's daughter gave me a necklace with two small gold charms. Both of them have the image of an angel. One is a tiny bit larger than the other. She told me that, in her culture, it is a traditional token of welcome into someone's family, usually given to a baby at birth. I received it this year as a welcome into an extended family I never thought I'd have.
A year later ...
As I wrestled with a 24-pound turkey last week, I was half-watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, and I couldn't help but think back to a year ago.
A year ago, I was in New York City having dinner with a person I did not know who needed something only I could give. We were at a restaurant overlooking the Rockefeller Center ice skating rink, and workers were using scaffolds to decorate the giant Christmas tree.
In just a year, so much has changed in ways that I could not have imagined. I'm feeling fine, and the person who received my kidney has been able to return to work and now has a second chance at life. Tim and I are working with a model school again ... not the one that we had planned a year ago, but a school with even greater potential than what we could have imagined. My daughter, who had been so upset, forgave me, got married, and is now pregnant with my first grandchild. She is already talking about finding a Montessori school for her child in Baltimore,
Why share this story?
This is the time of year when, even the busiest among us, find the time to show gratitude. It's also been a challenging year for all of us. Sometimes, we need to be reminded that we are all in this adventure we call 'life' together. We need to care for each other and our planet, and we need to understand that even the smallest act of kindness can make a big difference. That's what we teach our children in Montessori classrooms every day.
What I really want to share is that, despite the fact that I was the donor, I believe that I am the person who received the biggest gift. There is no reason in this world to have thought that I would match a complete stranger's blood type or that, at the age of 58, I would have no physical conditions that would eliminate me from donating.
What happened this past year has allowed me to believe in miracles and that, in itself, has changed my life for the better. I wear the necklace with the two little gold angel charms every day to remind myself of the old Bible quote: "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."
I am so grateful to have been able to help one person and, through him, his family and friends, as well. The ripple effect is a powerful force. When a group of determined people joins together, I truly believe that we have the collective potential to change the world.
I hope that this holiday season will be a very special one for you and your family and that the next year will be the best one ever!
Sincerely,
Joyce St. Giermaine
Executive Director
The Montessori Foundation
PS: There are many organizations that need your support. NewGate-Field School is one of many that needs help this year. No matter what cause touches that special place in your heart, I hope that this letter inspires you to give with gratitude and joy.
