Alice’s Gift – A Donor Story By Alect Hill

Alice and My Donor Visit Unlike Any Other

As I entered the room, Alice was sitting in a wheelchair. She had warned me that ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) had sapped much of her strength since I had last seen her 18 months before. 

But it was still a shock to see such a vibrant person so physically reduced.

As we hugged, we both wept. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” she stammered, “but I wanted to see you again so badly.” 

She was holding an email I had sent her about 50 students coming to faith through InterVarsity’s chapter at Ohio State University. “Alec, I am so thrilled about this. My son-in-law attended OSU.”

Having broken the ice, we entered familiar territory – stories about our lives together working for World Relief two decades before. We laughed about the Laotian man, who, not understanding his American doctor, had taken birth control pills himself and was very upset that his wife had become pregnant. 

We roared as we recalled a young World Relief job developer who had seen an ad by a prospective employer asking for applicants with “Polish and Poise.”  Assuming this meant Polish refugees, he called the employer with great gusto only to be sorely disappointed. 

Ours was a surprising partnership back then. I was 27 years old – academically qualified but short on street smarts. She was 42 – battle savvy and salt of the earth. When I first showed up at World Relief, she must have rolled her eyes with concern. 

But we were an unbeatable team. Over five years, we led a staff group that resettled 5,000 refugees in a five-state region. We even received a special commendation from the State Department.

As our conversation rambled on, I recalled speaking at her husband’s funeral after he had fallen off a ladder. I remembered her ruckus laughter whenever a naked, disoriented elderly gentleman would peer at us from the public housing building next to our office. 

I didn’t want to tire Alice out too much, so I said it was time to go. As I did so, she handed me an envelope. Walking out the door, I wept a second time, this time for joy. 

What a privilege to know such a saint who continued to find jobs for Kurdish refugees over the phone and is revered in so many new communities—Cambodian, Ukrainian, Sudanese, and Vietnamese.

Later that night, I opened the envelope.  As I did, a check for $200 fell out – truly a widow’s mite. Her letter, in part, read: 

You will never know how much your visit means to me. You were the one who was there when Leo died… This is a horrible disease, one that only gets worse. However, there are some rewards as I can plan ahead to say goodbye to those I love and prepare for eternity… I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again… Thank you, my dear friend.

My visit humbled and inspired me. Far too often, I pick the wrong heroes. But through Alice, the Lord gave me a great gift. He opened my eyes to see her as He did. May I be granted half of her courage and character.  

A final note to those tasked with raising funds. I hope you have your donor story where mission and friendship mesh perfectly. These stories remind us that our roles are relational, not transactional. 

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Alec Hill is President Emeritus of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship USA.

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