What a cool kid:

Nov. 13, 2006

To those who grant Eagle Scout status:

I am a healthy 24-year-old woman who, clinging to a senseless fear of needles, had never had the courage to give blood until I met M. Sparks.
I met him at one of the four blood drives Sparks had organized for his Eagle Scout project. He came across as an incredibly ambitious 12-year-old who didn't meet the standard idea of an Eagle Scout (as he was young) or a blood donor (as he was light).
But despite these inconsistencies, Sparks was locked into earning the Eagle honor as well as convincing others to donate in his stead.
I was talking with Sparks about his project, interviewing him actually (I am a reporter for a local newspaper) when he revealed to me the difficulty of meeting his goal.
Everyone kept saying no.
His father, L. Sparks, had been a witness to the refusals given to his son time and again — myself included.
As our interview concluded, and he had convincingly delivered his intentions, I turned down at his request for a pint.
"I'm on the clock; I'm not that great with needles; I don't know how I'll react; I have to drive, and so on," I justified to myself
Some of those excuses held water. For example, I know a light-headed, snacking reporter wouldn't be any good during breaking news. However, my relationship with needles was tumultuous and hollow, and could no longer be an excuse.
At one point in my life, it might have been. As a young child, I spent a lot of time in the hospital, with nurses sneaking up on me in the night armed with a silver gleaming needles.
These images, ingrained so deep in my conscience, had prevented me from doing my donor duty.
So in a moment of spontaneity and courage, I re-approached Sparks, asking him when and where I could meet for his next blood drive.
We shook on it, and he gave me a "Donate Blood" bracelet (a la Lance Armstrong) to be worn until I had made right on my word.
I could go on to tell you about the process, the nerves, the finger prick and how I darn near passed out. But, what I'll say instead is that Sparks inspired me to get to the rec-room of that church and once there, motivated me through the whole process.
He was an attentive and funny distraction, particularly during the more tense parts. But more than anything, Sparks encouraged me to be a better person, giving, very literally of myself, for the betterment of others.


With Sincerity —

Flee