A note from my sister, Robin, to the planet about organ donation:

When my father passed away on September 27, 2001, I was devastated as was our whole family. I never thought his passing would in turn bring about two miracles. Two of my brothers and I were at the house preparing to make funeral arrangements and contacting family members to inform they of dads passing. At approximately 7:00 a.m. my mother received a phone call from one of the coordinators at the hospital asking about donating my fathers corneas, she asked us what we thought. Without hesitation we all said, "yes" at the same time. My dad was not an organ donor, however, we had discussed it in the past and he assumed there would be nothing of his that could be used due to his illness. He thought with all of the medications he had been on there would be nothing left that would be of any use to anyone. When the call came that morning we were all in agreement dad would have approved. So my mother told the coordinator to use what ever they could.

I was at my mother's this weekend when she received a letter, thanking her for allowing a part of someone she loved to be used to help others. Herein lies the miracles: the letter went on to say two people were now seeing through my father's eyes, which in turn brought tears to ours.

So for anyone who is not an organ donor, please read the following that was also enclosed with the beautiful letter. This was written by Robert N Test. Now, I don't know who this man is, however when I read this it is as if he knew our beloved father. So the following is in memory of our father H.B. Evans whom we love and miss everyday.

To Remember Me

The day will come when my body will lie upon a
white sheet, neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress
located in a hospital busily occupied with the living and the dying.
At a certain moment, a doctor will determine that my brain has
ceased to function and that for all intents
and purposes, my life has stopped

When that happens, do not attempt to install artificial life into my
body by the use of a machine. And don't call this my death bed.
Let it be called the Bed of Life, and let my body be
taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.

Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise,
a baby's face or the love in the eyes of a woman.
Give my heart to a person whose own heart
has caused nothing but endless days of pain.

Give my blood to a teenager who was pulled from the wreckage
of his car so that he might live to see his grandchildren play.
Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine to exist
from week to week. Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and
nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk.

Explore every corner of my brain. Take my cells,
if necessary, and let them grow so that someday, a speechless
boy will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf girl will hear
the sound of rain against her window.

Burn what is left of me and scatter
the ashes to the winds to help the flowers grow.
If you must bury something, let it be my faults,
my weaknesses and all prejudice against my fellow man.
Give my sins to the devil. Give my sould to God.

If by chance you wish to remember me, do it with
a kind deed or word to someone who needs you.
if you do all I have asked, I will live forever.

-Robert N. Test