It wasn’t until I read the article about young Brian Sheffield’s urgent need for an organ donor that I decided to get involved. At the time, Brian was critically ill and on dialysis.

You have to admire the fortitude of a young man so determined to learn to play a musical instrument. Particularly the organ, which is a difficult instrument to play.

I had inherited two of them. One thing I had not inherited was musical talent. They were just sitting there making me feel guilty. I decided to donate the Baldwin brand, model # 665. It was a small portable one and would be easier to move and more likely to fit in their family room.

I called the phone number listed in the article and said, “I would like to become an organ donor for Brian.”

I had no idea the process of organ donation was so complicated. His mother insisted that I speak to a psychologist, who asked if I was sure that I could handle the psychological stress of donating an organ.

“Sure,” I said. “I have no use for it. It is just taking up space. I have another one. Why are you making such a big deal of it?”

“Bless you, my dear,” he said with tears in his eyes.

Then I was forced to undergo a complete physical exam and blood workup to ascertain if I was fit enough to donate an organ. I tried to tell them that I did not plan to move the organ myself. I had already hired a professional mover and had given him Brian’s address.

“Ha-ha, You are such a kidder!” he said.

At the hospital, before the physical, I was given a couple of pills, which they said were to relax me. They must have worked because I dozed off. The next thing I remembered was waking up in the recovery room, groggy, disoriented, and in considerable pain.

“Nurse,” I gasped, “was the organ successfully delivered to Brian?”

“Oh, yes,” she answered. “And it was a near perfect match.”

I guess it was a good thing that I donated the small one with the cherry finish instead of the large oak one. I had a feeling it would match their other furniture better.

Later that afternoon Brian’s family gathered around my hospital bed, laughing, crying, hugging, and kissing. I have never seen such an outpouring of love and gratitude. It made me wish I had gone with the full-size pipe organ instead of the portable one.

Over the next few months, I was a frequent guest at Brian’s home, where I was welcomed like one of the family. Brian’s mom seemed puzzled by the recent delivery of my Baldwin portable organ model # 665. She wanted to know how I knew that Brian had always wanted to play a musical instrument.

I thought this was curious since it was Brian’s request for an organ that had brought us together in the first place.

I said to Brian’s mom, “Brian is positively glowing with good health. I understand that he is no longer on dialysis. The love of music must be a powerful thing.”

“It is all thanks to you,” she said. “You truly saved his life when you donated your kidney through the organ donor program.”

“My kidney? I donated my kidney?! Well, that explains the scar.”

“We can never thank you enough for such a selfless act,” she said. “Your heart truly is in the right place.”

“Darn right it is!” I said. “And it had better stay there! I am not done with it yet!”