I have a special affinity for the Disabled Veterans Association.  Although I respect veterans, this is not the organization my friends might associate with me.  I have my Father to thank for this attachment.

When I was seven or eight years old, my father sent in a donation to the DVA on my behalf.  He continued to give small donations to them here and there over several years and always under my name.  I did not know anything about the association nor did I give it much thought.  I did, however, love the address labels with my name that the organization sent me and even the cheap mix of greeting cards that sometimes came in the place of address labels.  I was eight and I just enjoyed receiving mail of any kind.

I don't know why my dad did this.  Perhaps he thought it was a worthwhile charity.  Perhaps he got a "please donate" mailing from them and thought it would be cute to send it in my name.  Perhaps it was to include in his list of charities for tax purposes.  Perhaps he did not put any thought into it.

I don't believe that it was his purpose to teach me a lesson about giving, but that was the unintentional result.  That simple act of sending a few dollars to a randomly chosen charity has made me a giver.  Not only did I become a giver, but also, I gained a passion for giving that stays with me today.  No matter what my salary has been, I have always given a portion of it to various charities.

Over the years I've given to the National Parks Assoc, a women's collective in the state of Gujarat, a girls' school in Andhra Pradesh, the New York Public Library, Operation Santa Claus, Nothing But Net, Doctors Without Borders, March of Dimes, One campaign, Salvation Army, Feed Project, the Girl Scouts (umm, cookies), my alma maters (does that count?), and the many races/marathons/iron mans that my friends have run for charity.  When that didn't seem satisfying enough, I devoted my time.  I was a mentor to an 8 year old, I volunteered at a domestic abuse helpline, I ran various races, I painted playgrounds, I helped out with the NY marathon, I reigned in rude high school kids at Derek Jeter's kids charity (long, hot story!).  Wow, I didn't realize how difficult it would be to recall everything.  My dad deserves all the credit.

As a parent, I struggle with how to pass onto my son the correct morals and beliefs.  How do you teach someone to be a good person?  Whenever it seems overwhelming, I think back to the simple lessons from my father.  I didn't get my beliefs from a lesson plan.  I got them from a role model.