Special Feature
By George Ozalla
Mother Teresa once said, “It’s not how much we give, but how much love we put into giving.” Those words came from a woman whose entire life was devoted to caring for the unwanted and the forgotten. She built her legacy on compassion, and her message still echoes through stories of quiet, selfless love like that of Richard Miller, an ordinary man who chose to live by that truth.
Richard Miller’s world went silent in 1979 when his wife, Anne, passed away. Their home, once alive with laughter and plans for children, fell into a deep emptiness. Friends urged him to remarry, but Richard held tightly to Anne’s last words: “Don’t let love die with me. Give it somewhere to go.”
On a stormy night, he found himself at St. Mary’s Orphanage, where he saw nine Black girls sitting together in a corner. They had been abandoned and were about to be separated because no one wanted to take them all. Their cries echoed down the hallway, but Richard could not walk away.
He bent down and said quietly, “I’ll take them. Each and every one.”
The decision shocked everyone. Social workers doubted he could manage it. His relatives mocked him. Neighbors whispered, asking what a white man was doing raising nine Black girls. But Richard stood firm. He sold his belongings, took extra jobs, and built nine cribs with his own hands. His nights were filled with bottle feeding, changing diapers, and telling bedtime stories. He learned how to braid hair under a kitchen light and filled his home again with laughter and warmth.
The girls grew up under his care. Sarah was the one with the loud, joyful laugh. Naomi was mischievous but kind. Leah was gentle and thoughtful. Each of them became a reflection of the love that shaped their childhood. Over the years, they became teachers, nurses, and mothers who carried the lessons of compassion and strength he had given them.
Now, forty-six years later, in 2025, Richard sits at his old wooden table surrounded by his nine daughters. The room is filled with the sound of their laughter and the sight of the women they have become. It is a living picture of Anne’s last wish — that love should not die but be given a new place to grow.
Richard Miller’s story shows that kindness never goes unnoticed. It may take years, but love given freely always finds its way back. We all can show and share love in diverse ways.
Publisher & Editor-in-Chief
