Other Make a Difference Day celebs:
Writer Anchee Min on the value of education
Wally Lamb brings the expressiveness of writing to prison inmates
Bestselling author Matthew Klam is enriched by a handicapped child
Robert Putnam, writer of Bowling Alone, is optimistic toward youth
Arthur author Marc Brown believes where kids read, kids help others
Christopher Paul Curtis, author of Bud, Not Buddy, hails a hero he overlooked -- his dad.
Marc Parent, Turning Stones author, makes a difference to a dying woman's cat.
Ana Castillo, poet and author, tells how a gathering replenishes women who make a difference.
Ann Hood, author of Ruby and the upcoming Do Not Go Gentle: My Search for Miracles in a Cynical Time, comforts the spirit by feeding the sad, the lost and the lonely.
Justin Timberlake makes a difference through music
Wish You Well writer David Baldacci, learns a lesson from young writers
Patricia Cornwell, writer of The Last Precinct recalls what a world-renowned evangelist did for a scared little girl

Join make A Difference Day, Oct. 28 At www.makeadifferenceday.com, learn how to get... Support: As much as $10,000 for your cause. This funding is available now and in April from Wal-Mart, the retail supporter of Make A Difference Day, and from Paul Newman and his food company, Newman's Own. Ideas and publicity. Download planning guides for your office, school or family. Get project ideas and publicity tips. And don't forget to register your plans in the national Make a Difference DAYtaBANK. Volunteers without Internet access? Call 1-800-416-3824 for a brochure.

Mitch Albom, author of Tuesdays With Morrie, finds his late teacher's words live on.

Teach what you know

My old professor Morrie Schwartz hated war of all kinds. He especially hated the idea of his beloved students going from the green lawns of a university to the killing fields of a foreign country.

So for a while during the Vietnam War he gave all his male students A's regardless of their academic performance. He hoped to ensure their student deferments. Grades were unimportant. Saving a life was what mattered.

Thirty years later, Morrie lost his own life. He died of Lou Gehrig's disease. I visited him during his final months, once a week, every Tuesday, as he declined and finally slipped away. Our discussions, simple talks about what really matters in life once you know you're going to die, became the book Tuesdays With Morrie.

In one of those discussions, Morrie spoke about forgiveness. "Forgive everyone," he said, "and forgive yourself. Because when you get to where I am now, the reasons you were angry won't matter."

I knew those words were powerful. A few months ago, I met a man who showed me just how powerful.

He told me about an uncle whom he loved dearly. And this uncle, back in the '60s, had gone to fight in Vietnam. The family was devastated by his departure and worried for his safety. An older friend from the neighborhood -- let's call him Dwayne -- also was going to Vietnam. And in an act that is as noble in intent as any act can be, he promised the family that he would keep an eye on their son, make sure nothing happened.

A few months later, the uncle was killed. And the family never heard from Dwayne again.

Now, more than three decades later, here was the nephew finishing the story. "Last month," he said, "I got a call from Dwayne. It was the first time any of us had heard from him since Vietnam. He said that for all this time he hadn't had the courage to call us, because he felt he had let us down. He couldn't face the shame he felt for not having protected my uncle.

"Then he said someone had given him your book. And when he read the part about forgiveness, he broke down. He realized he didn't want to die with his pain, and he hoped we would forgive him."

The man paused and looked at me. "We were so happy to hear from him again. And we are so lucky to have this man back with us, just to talk to him and be with him. I just thought you should know how your words affected someone's life."

I fought back the choke in my throat. "Morrie should know," I said, softly.

You want to know about making a difference? In this super-sized nation, it's easy to believe only huge acts -- legislation, an Internet startup, something involving Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods -- can have an effect. Not true. The biggest differences come in the smallest acts: comforting loved ones, sharing a laugh or simply sitting around, imparting wisdom, mother to child, friend to friend, dying teacher to long-time student.

Morrie hoped he was affecting the lives of those who didn't have to fight a war. He never knew he'd touch someone who did. You want to make a difference? Teach what you know. It's like throwing stars into the sky, a light that goes on and on.

Photo Credit: SANTA FABIO for USA WEEKEND