One morning, in April of 1987, a school in North Seattle caught fire, and as smoke billowed from the windows, a crowd gathered. With sirens flaring in the distance, a woman pushed through the throng, and ran into the building. After a few minutes, she appeared at a window with two children, signaling for help. People rushed forward, and she lowered the children into their hands, then turned back into the smoke. Back and forth she went, leading children to the window, and lowering them to the people below. She turned and was enveloped by the smoke once more, and the people at the window waited.

This occurred in North Seattle in the mid 1980’s. The woman had no children at the school.

The fire trucks arrived and some in the crowd ran to explain what was happening. Armed with axes, the firemen rushed into the building, methodically going room to room. They found the woman shielding two children from the flames with her body.

Our heroines and heroes have always been people like the woman – people who have deigned “to fight the good fight,” be it by saving children from a burning school, standing up to injustice, or by merely offering a kind word to a distraught stranger. These are the people we’ve aspired to emulate.

Still, all too often, we find ourself feeling mystified, afraid, distraught, or confused. And our work-a-day life can often seem to offer little more than picayune aggravations and ego threatening slights, requiring cleverness and panache rather than heroic gestures of caring and bravery. It can feel like any meager effort toward selflessness would make as much difference as a single droplet of rain landing upon the surface of a pond.

Even so, through all of it – through all the distractions and drama, through all the numbing doubt and corrosive shame - the one thing that keeps our eyes bright and our heart limber is the memory of the woman’s choice that day, and the boundless human capacity for kindness and courage. It stirs the honey in our morning tea, lifts our smiles to the arcing sun, and cradles our dreams within the advancing night.

We have no idea how the woman in Seattle lived her life; but we do know how she died - her choices that day saved the lives of over a dozen children. Like her we too are presented opportunities to make a positive difference in the world around us – most everyday, in fact. Often times, these occasions aren’t particularly dramatic or memorable, and involve little more than the chance to extend a hand with helpful tenderness and empathetic understanding - they could hardly be considered on par with what the woman chose. But in those moments when we forget who we are and where we belong, we remember the woman, and remind ourself, the oceans exist because single droplets fell one after another, linking and entwining over time.

It is our hope this website will become one of those droplets.