The good guys thread

[kuhio98]

Boy forgoes presents to save the pups

RIO RANCHO (KRQE) – A 3-year-old Rio Rancho boy didn’t ask for toys, clothes or candy for his birthday. Instead he asked for presents that went straight to an animal shelter.

Dalton Lower is your typical 3-year-old boy. His favorite cartoon show to watch features hero dogs saving the day. That’s what inspired him to become a hero too.

His mission: Turn his birthday party, in June, into a plan to save the pups.

At Dalton’s party there was cake and hats. But the presents weren’t for him. Instead he asked for lots and lots of dog food.

“I take it to the animal shelter in our new car,” Dalton said.

Dalton’s dog food was delivered to the Santa Fe Animal Shelter on Sunday. His mom, Lucia Lower, said they collected 15 bags and some canned dog food.

The shelter didn’t even know he was coming. But they would soon find out when he showed up that this little guy was ready to give.

“He actually couldn’t wait to bring in all the dog food, he wanted to carry it in all himself,” Lower said.

But, a hero needs a reward. So Dalton was given a tour to see all the dogs his donation would help.

“They were really impressed that a 3-year-old wanted to give up toys to feed hungry pups,” Lower said.

A lesson in generosity from such a little guy with a big heart.

Dalton’s family has donated to other charities before. But this was the first time he picked out who to help.

[kuhio98]

People Magazine - Heroes Among Us
Zack Francom Sells Lemonade to Buy Wheelchairs for Those Who Need Them

When life gives you lemons, you can do much more than make lemonade, says Zack Francom.

The 11-year-old Utah boy has turned several hundred quarts of the drink into Zack's Shack, a philanthropy that has changed the lives of more than 300 people in need of wheelchairs in developing countries.

Zack got the idea for a lemonade stand in the spring of 2010 when his school held a fundraiser to purchase a wheelchair for LDS Philanthropies, a Mormon church charity.

"I decided that I wanted to raise enough to buy one all by myself," says Zack.

"I thought, 'What if I couldn't walk or run or ride my bike? What would that be like?' " he says. "I wanted to help make life easier for somebody who couldn't walk or run and didn't have money for a wheelchair to help them get around."

Since then – selling lemonade at 50 cents a cup and two cookies for $1 – his Zack's Shack has become an annual event in his hometown of Provo, Utah. Hundreds of people line up in front of his house every April during spring break to help fund his charity.

"When people visit Zack's lemonade stand they see a great example of a little boy with a big heart," says Tanise Chung-Hoon, managing director for LDS Philanthropies.

"When you see the genuine fun he has in the work, you immediately realize that he feels just as happy and lucky as the wheelchair recipients," she says. "Zack is the perfect example of how philanthropy changes the giver as well as the receiver."

This past April, Zack sold 350 dozen cookies baked by his mom, Nancy Bird, and 80 quarts of lemonade, earning $5,300 – enough to buy another 37 wheelchairs (basic models now cost $143), which are shipped to Guatemala, Guam and 53 other countries, where a wheelchair can often cost more than a year's wages.

"There was one lady in Guatemala who crawled for 10 miles with her baby on her back to pick up her wheelchair," says Bird, 32, who spends several weeks helping her son bake cookies for the sale every year.

"What a dramatic change it has made in her life," she says. "Stories like this are what keep Zack going."

He also has bigger dreams. He says he'd love to see other kids start similar efforts in other states.

"Imagine if there were hundreds of Zack's Shacks," he says. "Nobody who needs a wheelchair should have to go without one just because they can't afford it."

And he'd love to take a more active role himself.

"My goal is to fly around the world someday and hand out the wheelchairs," he says.

[kuhio98]

From a Random Acts of Kindness website:

Cake topping
Today, as I drank coffee in a bakery, I noticed a young boy ordering a cake for his mom`s 40th birthday. He seemed to live on a small budget and by the end of his order, he wasn't able to afford the writing on top of the cake. I was so touched by this scene that I offered him to add the money for the icing writing. He first refused, but then got really happy. And I was just happy seeing his face and imaging his mom having a wonderful cake!

[kuhio98]

Mother Knew Best
He didn’t want to upset his mom, but he had to tell her he thought she’d fallen for a scam.

By Gilbert Roller, Wilmore, Kentucky

My mother wasn’t impulsive, especially regarding her finances. That’s why I was shocked when she said she’d donated most of her life savings to two missionaries who had knocked on her door in Texas.

“You did what?!” I sputtered. “When?”

“A few months back,” she said. “These nice young people needed money to build a chapel in Mexico.”

No, they hadn’t given her any documentation. No, she hadn’t heard from them since.

I didn’t want to upset her, but I had to tell her I thought she’d fallen for a scam.

“I don’t think the Lord would have moved me to help if it wasn’t for real,” she said.

At the time, I was a young professor at Asbury University in Kentucky, teaching music theory, and my wife and I weren’t on the best financial footing. We could have used that money.

For years–even after I got tenure and we raised three sons–I imagined finding the drifters who had swindled Mom, though I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I did. Only when Mom died and my sons became missionaries–real ones–did I let the matter go.

I retired in 1993. My wife and I took a cross-country trip to California, staying at campgrounds along the way.

One evening, somewhere in Missouri, I’d just set up our tent when a man wandered over from his RV.

“I see by your license plate you’re from Kentucky,” he said. “What do you do?”

“Retired now,” I said. “But I used to teach music theory.”

“Music,” the man said. “Hmm. You know anyone by the name of Roller?”

How’d he know that? “Yes, actually, my name is Roller,” I said.

The man smiled.

“Many years ago, my wife and I met a woman in Texas named Roller. She had a son in Kentucky who taught music. She gave us quite a lot of money. Viola Roller.”

My mom. My blood ran cold. Here I was, finally face-to-face with one of those so-called missionaries!

“Hang on,” the man said, ducking into his RV before I could react. He came out and handed me a photo. A simple adobe building with a cross on the roof, and a sign out in front: Roller Capilla.

“Roller Chapel,” the man said. “Named for the woman who made it possible.”

[kuhio98]

Silent Kindness

My ex father in law (John) was a uniquely good individual. He had a best friend who had a heart attack and hospitalized for a lengthy stay. In the summer lawns would grow fast in the heat. Every week John would drive over to his friends home and mow his lawn for him so he did not have to face an overgrown yard when he returned home to recuperate. Very silent kindness!

[kuhio98]

respect?

I don't know if this is a kindness story but whenever I see a person do an act of kindness whether it is for me or to another person, I make it a point to approach that person and tell them, "would you do me a favor and tell your mom and dad, what a wonderful job they did in raising their child." Sometimes a smile and an enthusiastic "I will."

[kuhio98]

Heroes Among Us
Wanda Butts Teaches Inner-City Kids in Ohio How to Swim

It never occurred to Wanda Butts that her only son, Josh, needed swimming lessons.

As a girl, she'd never spent any time in the pool, either.

"My dad saw two kids drown at a church picnic and wouldn't let us go near the water after that," says the Toledo, Ohio, court clerk. "Growing up, swimming just wasn't on our radar. And that's also how it was with my son."

Everything changed on Aug. 6, 2006 – the day Josh, 16, drowned in a rafting accident during a trip to a Michigan lake with friends.

"He didn't have a life jacket and the raft tipped over," she says quietly. "It's a phone call that no parent should have to get. If Josh had known how to swim, I wouldn't be talking about him in the past tense today."

She soon learned her son's death wasn't an anomaly. Statistics show inner-city kids, particularly African-Americans, are five times more likely to drown than other children due to a lack of money for swimming lessons, as well as a dearth of pools.

So in 2007 Butts, now 61, formed the Josh Project to give free swimming lessons and water-safety training to local kids. So far she and her daughter, Tankeeya Butts, have signed up more than 1,300 children.

St. Francis de Sales High School in Toledo donates time at the school's pool for the classes. Certified volunteers teach the classes, and children are allowed to continue in the program "for as long as it takes," says Butts.

"Black, white, whatever color they are, wherever they are from, all are welcome," she says. "Every child should be able to have fun in the water and stay safe."

For city parents who have never taken their children swimming, "the Josh Project is literally a lifesaver," says Lisa Haynes, 53, whose 17-year-old son, Orlando Joshua, recently graduated with a swimming certificate.

With her neighborhood pool closed and no money for swimming lessons, "Wanda has helped give me peace of mind," she says. "Now I don't have to worry so much when my son is near water. He's mastered everything from the butterfly to the backstroke, and we owe it all to Wanda. She's a strong person with a big heart."

Butts, who tells kids that "swimming is the only sport that can save your life," has now started free classes for adults who have never known the pleasure – or safety – of swimming.

"I'm finally going to take the leap myself and take some lessons," she says. "I know Josh would be proud."