Before My 19-Year-Old Son Died, He Donated His Heart to an 18-Year-Old Girl—Then Her Mother Handed Me a Letter: “Mom, There’s Something You Need to Know About Her”
Because the money had been saved for his education.
He would never use it.
Art had mattered to him.
One student each year received modest support.
Maya helped choose the first recipient.
Then stopped serving on the committee.
“Why?”
“Because I’ll choose anyone who paints water.”