Curled from the book, HumanKind: Changing the World One Small Act At a Time When Larry Stewart was growing up in his grandparents’ home in a small Mississippi town, he didn’t know they were impoverished. It wasn’t until he started school that he learned what he “lacked”—the bathrooms, telephones, hot water and gas stoves to be found in other kids’ homes. As a young adult, Larry confronted poverty again. Living paycheck to paycheck, he became homeless when his employer went out of business owing Larry more than one check. So Larry resorted to living in his car, covering himself in his laundry in an effort to stay warm and hoping to forget his hunger. By the time he’d gone two days without a regular meal, he was so desperate that he went to the Dixie Diner and ordered breakfast without knowing how he’d pay for it. When he finished eating, he started looking around on the floor, pretending he’d lost his wallet. The cook even came out from behind the counter and helped him look. Then, suddenly, the search was over. “You must have dropped this,” the cook said. He was holding a twenty-dollar bill. Larry was so grateful that he made a vow to himself: as soon as he was able, he’d do something for others like what the cook had done for him. Over time, he became financially stable, and he set out to keep his vow. Although he wasn’t well off by any means, he knew he couldn’t put off getting started. One evening, he stopped at a drive-in restaurant and noticed that the waitress was wearing a tattered coat that couldn’t have been keeping her warm. When he handed her money to pay for his food, he knew it was the moment. “Keep the change,” he said. Tears welled in the waitress’s eyes, and her hands shook as she held the money. “You have no idea what this means to me,” she said, her voice shaking, too. But Larry did have an idea what it meant to her. Afterward, he was so inspired by what had happened that he started driving around looking for people who needed help. They weren’t hard to find, and he gave away $200 in fives and tens. The more successful Larry became, the more money he gave away. By the time he’d earned considerable wealth in cable and phone services in Kansas City, Missouri, he was anonymously giving away substantial amounts as a “Secret Santa.” He consulted with local social workers, firefighters, and police officers to find needy and deserving recipients. He also found some of them on his own, at laundromats, social service agencies, government housing facilities, and businesses that paid minimum wage. At thrift stores, he often found people who were raising their grandchildren. When he would give them anywhere from $100 to $300, it would change the whole complexion of their Christmas as well as their outlook. For many of them, this money made it possible to buy presents and cover necessities like utility bills. Larry didn’t want people to have to beg, get in line or apply for money. “I was giving in a way that allowed them to keep their dignity,” he said in an interview with a local news station years later. Just like the cook at the Dixie Diner had done for him. All told, Larry gave away more than $1.4 million over the years. There are many stories from people whose homes he saved. People who told their families there wasn’t going to be a Christmas but wound up being able to buy gifts because of the money Secret Santa gave them. People who were able to pay their bills and get their gas turned back on, thanks to Larry. In 2006, after serving as an anonymous Santa for more than twenty years, Larry was diagnosed with terminal cancer. At that point, he decided to go public because a tabloid newspaper was about to reveal his identity. Larry thought he should be the one to tell his story, hoping it would recruit more Santas to take his place. He’d seen that every time a Secret Santa was written about in the media, the coverage was followed by a wave of new Secret Santa appearances. He hoped making his identity public would continue to add to the ranks. Larry got his wish. Thousands of people visited his website and signed up to become Secret Santas. And based on the number of people who emailed the site about their experiences that Christmas season, the new Secret Santas did more than sign up; they also turned out in force. When Larry died in 2007, his handpicked successor—an anonymous Kansas City businessman—took over for him and continues to lead the Society of Secret Santas today. Its members follow in Larry’s footsteps around the world. The postings on the society’s website tell of giving money to victims of fires, people who had been evicted from their homes, and veterans and military families in need. They tell of former NFL player Dick Butkus handing out hundred-dollar bills in San Diego and former Major League Baseball player Luis Gonzalez doing the same in Phoenix. A foundation was also formed in Larry’s honor to accept donations to be used by the Santas. The first donation was from former Kansas City parking attendant Sam Williams, who wanted to make a small gift in memory of the man who’d given him a hundred-dollar bill a few years before. “He gave me the biggest gift I ever got in my life,” Williams told KMBC News. Larry gave Secret Santas everywhere a gift, too. As the society’s website says, “The compassion shared from one spontaneous random act of kindness is elevating, priceless and not easily explained. It is an instant connection between souls that can change a life forever. Being a Secret Santa has blessings beyond words.” What’s more, it’s a gift anybody can give. “It’s not about the man, it’s not about the money—it’s