The stories of HeroicStories.
A group of teens give up a night of fun and freedom to give blood – proving our future country is in good hands.
A front desk clerk jumps into action and saves a traveler who needs a ride to the airport after a Grand Canyon trip.
Flowers from a Passover Seder inspire a new level of communication in a woman in a nursing home.
Meeting an active quadriplegic changes the attitude of a young man who recently lost the use of his arms and legs.
It was an embarrassing day while working for Habitat for Humanity. And then Lauren turned it around by listening.
College students crash into a ditch and are rescued by several kind souls who show the goodness in the human heart.
By Diana Karol Nagy
Gainesville, Florida, USA
This past holiday season did not turn out as expected for our family. We had relatives from Germany visiting our Florida home; our plans were to take all the kids to Disney World and Universal Studios in Orlando. However, a few days before Christmas I developed excruciating pain in my neck, left shoulder, arm, and hand. After an agonizing wait, an emergency MRI scan disclosed that I needed immediate neck surgery for two herniated disks.
by Linda Gavitt
Connecticut, USA
In January 1999 planning for my daughter’s wedding began with a phone call telling me she and John would marry in March — leaving little time to plan! Fortunately Lauren wanted a small wedding with 20-30 close friends and relatives. She was in Orlando, Florida, John was stationed in Kentucky, and I was in Connecticut. Her finance’s family generously offered their help to plan everything, and their Tampa area home for the reception.
By Patty Mooney
California, USA
It’s been many years since I have had to stand on the end of Pusheck Road in Bellwood, a suburb of Chicago, waiting for the school bus, and yet I remember one special day as though it were yesterday.
by Jeff Simms
Barnegat, New Jersey, USA
It was a nippy Fall day — our favorite kind of weather. It was Saturday and we were going to have a great time. My divorced mother, two younger brothers and I were on our way to the park at the other end of the small Jersey town we lived in. We had our football and makeshift goal posts in the back of the station wagon and our teams already chosen: us against our mother. (Don’t worry, it was only touch football.)