The day after Father’s Day two years ago, Kim Sigmund sat in stunned silence with her 4-year-old daughter Charlotte in a pediatrician’s office, with unimaginable phrases swirling in her head. Low blood count, the doctor said. Possibly leukemia.

“I was like, 'No way,’” recalls Sigmund, expelling a tense laugh fraught with all the terror and relief of her family’s two-year ordeal.  

Recently I told a little white lie. I said “no” when I could have said “yes.” Technically, I could have done what was being asked of me. I was available, and it wouldn’t have cost me a dime. I even had an appropriate outfit hanging in my closet, just back from the dry cleaners. All I needed to do was show up at a public function, shake some hands, and make a few remarks.