It was going to be a busy day. I rolled over in bed to savor one last moment of Saturday morning shut-eye. I expected to hear my mom’s chipper voice at any moment, but the faint tapping of April rain on my window stole her reveille and dampened my spirits for a pleasant day outdoors. Today I would be collecting returnable cans and bottles from neighborhoods around town that I had notified with a can drive flier. We would be donating the money raised to help children with cancer at the University of Minnesota Children’s Hospital.

By the time we reached the last street of the last neighborhood, the rain had subsided and a glimpse of sun had pierced the gray clouds, brightening the prospect of spending three hours at the grocery store returning the carload of sticky, smelly and, at times, moldy cans and bottles. Hungry and anxious to grab a bite to eat, we zipped down the streets, looking for any bags of cans placed curbside or on porches. Suddenly my mom stopped the car and said, “What’s that?” At the top of a driveway sat a small brown paper bag, all alone, with what appeared to be a card attached. “How did my mom see this?” I muttered as I trudged up the steep driveway, expecting nothing more than a solitary Coke can.

I was wrong. Inside the bag was a rock! Confused and a little amused, I shrugged my shoulders, holding up the rock to show my mom. I yanked the note from the bag and pulled the card from its maroon envelope. A crisp $20 bill floated to the ground. I couldn’t believe it! Ecstatic, I ran down the driveway, hopped into our car, and breathlessly began to read the card to my mom:

We don’t have any cans or bottles to give you, but would like to donate this money to benefit children with cancer at the University of Minnesota Children’s Hospital. Our son was treated for cancer there. Doctors were able to successfully shrink his tumor, and he got better for a while, but he passed away last year. So we really appreciate your efforts to help these children. We have been blessed to adopt a baby daughter this year! She has been such a joy and comfort to us! You are welcome to come and see her. God bless you in your kind service to children with cancer!

As I finished reading, I looked up to see tears streaming down my mother’s cheeks, something I rarely see. Wiping them away, she softly said, “Let’s go and meet the baby.”

I anxiously pressed the doorbell, and a wave of excitement and trepidation came over me. What would I say? A man opened the door as if expecting us and warmly welcomed us inside. Standing behind him was a woman proudly cradling her sleeping baby. As if we were long-time friends, we all hugged briefly, bonded by a common thread of hope woven by happenstance. Tears welled up in my eyes, and the woman graciously placed me at ease by asking how I got started with the can drives.

I told them that after reading an article in The Ann Arbor News about how kids at the University of Michigan’s Mott Children’s Hospital spend their holidays, I wanted to do something to help. I decided to raise $10,000 by collecting returnable cans and bottles over a two-year period. I wanted my donations to go directly to the children. What little I could do to put smiles on their faces would be well worth my weekends at the grocery store returning cans and bottles.

I met my goal – $1,095 above my target and eight months earlier than hoped. I stuffed nearly 9,300 fliers in mailboxes and doors in 80 neighborhoods and returned more than 80,000 cans and bottles. The rest of the money came from cash donations. All of it went directly to the Child and Family Life Center at the hospital, the first and largest of its kind in the United States, providing innovative support services – including procedure preparation, medical play, and art and music therapy – for hospitalized patients and their families.

From this experience, I learned that hard work and perseverance are central to achieving one’s goals. But it was the unexpected encounters that created the moments I will always cherish. I met a number of amazing people on my quest, including this family who shared with me a very private and painful time in their lives, and then invited me, a stranger, into their home. I’m in awe of how these parents faced a terrible tragedy and then managed to move forward. Their story forced me to reflect on life and death, and to be thankful not only for my good health, but for the sacrifices made by my parents so that I could pursue my goals, including fundraising.

Now, when I drive through any neighborhood, I don’t simply look at the front doors, but wonder what inspiring stories are behind them.