I would like to convince you to save someone’s life. Now, I could go the cliché route and have you imagine yourself in a difficult situation and proceed to ask you what you would do. Or I could throw some facts and numbers in your face and expect you to actually read and understand them. I could begin with my own life story and why I do what I do in the vain hope that you, reader, are like myself. I could actually do a lot of things. I could begin with a totally unrelated story about possums and rubber ducks to reel you into a completely different point. Instead, I will try to appeal to that moral side of you that I know you think isn’t big enough or kind enough.

If faced with the decision to save a life or not, you’re going to say no, right? No, of course, you’re not. Everyone will probably say that yes, sure, I would save a life, no question about it. But how would you actually go about doing it? Not all of you are going to run across a dying person on a daily basis unless it is in your job description. And not all of you are a trained medical professional. I know I’m not — you don’t want me to care for you when you’re sick unless you need chicken noodle soup. I can do that. I hope you don’t mind that it’ll be burned.

What if I told you about a way to save a person’s life; would you go out and do it? If I told you it costs something — an hour of your time, two pinpricks, and one pint of blood — would you still do it? I hope we’re on the same page here — I’m talking about donating blood, alright? Not summoning a demon.

I know for a fact that you, sitting there, have blood running through your veins. Unless you’re a vampire, in which case this article is not for you. I know how much blood you have — roughly ten pints.

Giving up one of those pints is not a lot—if I did my math correctly, giving one pint would leave you with nine pints. That’s 9/10, or 90% of what you had before. It really isn’t a lot, but it’s enough to save up to three lives. One measly pint could give three whole persons another chance at life.

If the satisfaction and pride of knowing you saved a person’s life isn’t enough for you, bragging rights that you saved a person never cease to impress. If the knowledge that another person is alive because of you isn’t enough, know that pint was mostly extra blood anyway and that donating blood makes you healthier, less at risk for heart issues*. I’m not going to tell you that your one donation could change the world, because what are the odds of that? But your donation of life-giving blood could change someone’s world. And isn’t that enough?

I want you to know why I care. I don’t have any tragic backstory to offer up as reasoning for my persistence. I’m not even as regular of a donor as I know I could or should be—donating the other day was my first time in months.

In reality, I am a hypocrite to ask you to donate blood when I myself can’t even do so properly. But if there is one thing I know, it’s that we humans aren’t perfect. And that is why this means so much—we talk about sacrificing to help others, and when we see those moments, the words ‘restoring faith in humanity’ get thrown around.

Well, humanity, here is an opportunity for you to restore someone’s faith in you. To give something as precious as blood to a stranger you will never meet, to me, is the ultimate display of love. I don’t know who you are, what you believe, or what kind of life you lead, but here you go; take my blood, have another chance to live. My philosophy in life is to leave a place—a room, this world—in better shape than I came to it in. The world is a messed up place—take the time to care, and you can leave it in better condition than it might have been without you.

Blood stocks are really low right now, and they need donors badly. I know you might be scared, nervous. I was too — my first three times donating blood, I was so nervous that my pulse was going a mile a minute, and I had to sit for five minutes and calm myself down before I could donate. It can be nerve-wracking, but it really is just two pinpricks: when they prick your finger to test your blood for hemoglobin, and when the needle is put in your arm — once it’s in, you can’t even feel it. It’s just the initial prick. Just do what they tell you, and it’ll all go fine.

There are some of you who know you can’t donate, some who will find that out — for medical reasons — and that is for the best. Donating bad blood would defeat the purpose of donating at all. Just be truthful when they ask you questions — everything is confidential, no one releases the information, no one judges. They are there to make sure it is safe for you and for the one that will be accepting the blood. Every rule they have is there for good reason — they know what they are doing.

If I have convinced you, even just to check it out, the Red Cross is a great place to donate — they are who I go through. They have some programs for high school students that could get you scholarships and other things that could help you in college. Although, I know there are other places you can go — open up Google and type in ‘blood donation centers in (insert your home town)’, then you will get a list of places around you that accepts blood donations. Call them, set up an appointment, ask as many questions as your uncertain mind can think of, and know that they are there to help you make a difference in the world, even if it is as small as one pint of difference.

*You can find more information regarding the health benefits of donating blood here.