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In December and July, for the past 20 years, my grandfather ran one of Staten Island’s biggest blood drives which took place at my very own school, St. Clare’s. Ever since I was about four or five, my mother took me to the drive as I saw people walk in and out donating a pint or two of blood at a time. My grandfather limited my view of what was going on, but truly, I knew what was happening, I just didn’t understand why it was happening. As a matter of fact, the only reason I didn’t give my mom a hard time when she took me was that I was given balloons, stickers, and cookies when I went. However, as I got older, I became more involved and started enjoying it for what it was. Some days, after school, my grandfather dragged me into the rectory basement to put together a banner to hang outside in the school/church parking lot for everyone to see. This started when I was seven, and I continue to do so until this day. As I grew older, I began to do more, including standing outside the church and handing out flyers or even making posters to hang up around town.
In the fifth grade, I reached the age where I was required to be in the Little Docs program. This program was something my grandfather had created in which he used the fifth through seventh-grade classes to make posters and thank you cards for the people at the drive. My class was very interested in how this man was my grandfather, and every year that he came, they remembered him and paid attention to whatever he had to say. Unfortunately, at the end of the 6th grade, he passed away, so he never came to my seventh grade the following year. In fact, when the people did come to talk to us, I was pulled out of the class so I wouldn’t have to listen, for
In December and July, for the past 20 years, my grandfather ran one of Staten Island’s biggest blood drives which took place at my very own school, St. Clare’s. Ever since I was about four or five, my mother took me to the drive as I saw people walk in and out donating a pint or two of blood at a time. My grandfather limited my view of what was going on, but truly, I knew what was happening, I just didn’t understand why it was happening. As a matter of fact, the only reason I didn’t give my mom a hard time when she took me was that I was given balloons, stickers, and cookies when I went. However, as I got older, I became more involved and started enjoying it for what it was. Some days, after school, my grandfather dragged me into the rectory basement to put together a banner to hang outside in the school/church parking lot for everyone to see. This started when I was seven, and I continue to do so until this day. As I grew older, I began to do more, including standing outside the church and handing out flyers or even making posters to hang up around town.
In the fifth grade, I reached the age where I was required to be in the Little Docs program. This program was something my grandfather had created in which he used the fifth through seventh-grade classes to make posters and thank you cards for the people at the drive. My class was very interested in how this man was my grandfather, and every year that he came, they remembered him and paid attention to whatever he had to say. Unfortunately, at the end of the 6th grade, he passed away, so he never came to my seventh grade the following year. In fact, when the people did come to talk to us, I was pulled out of the class so I wouldn’t have to listen, for my teacher felt it was going to be hard for me to have him not be there while someone else gave his speech. When I returned, some kids asked me where my grandfather was and why he didn’t show. I explained to them what had happened, for I only told my close friends that he died. My heart sank that day, for I realized that the blood drive would never be the same again without him, however, I continue his legacy by actively participating in the drive every year.
About a year ago, an award was created by the New York Blood Center in my grandfather's honor and is given to those who have done something beyond what anyone could ask for, just as my grandfather had done. My mother, sister, and I attended the ceremony and we met the first recipient of the award. As I shook hands and hugged the man, he started to tear up and eventually started crying. He understood what my grandfather had done for the blood center and was honored to be presented with such an award. From that day forward, I understood the difference my grandfather made. He collected over 150 pints of blood each drive and statistically speaking, 1 pint saves 3 lives. I, personally, felt that I needed to continue his work and continue making a difference. Even though the drive is technically run by the blood center, each time I go to the rectory after school and I put up the banner, using the skills my grandfather had taught me ever since I was seven. In addition to that, I also work the front desk or canteen at every blood drive, along with some close friends of mine, who come for support. I truly feel my grandfather’s presence at these drives, for I am continuing his work and showing true compassion for God and also His (God) people’s lives.
My grandfather led a very inspiring life with many stories to tell. I plan to tell his stories and continue his work so that he truly will never die. He is in the hearts of many, and also who I try to base my life on each day. As Jesus explains to us, “Love one another as I have loved you. By doing so, everyone will know you are my disciples (John 13:34-35)”. This is how I try to live. In the end, what distinguishes us from the rest of the world isn’t just the uniqueness God gives to us, but the love and sacrifices that we give to others.
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