As a 31-year-old first-year law student, Robyn was older than most of her fellow students. Her road to Washington and Lee was unconventional—she had taken a break from college in 1986 to raise the two sons she had with her husband, David, then working as a title examiner. In January 1992, Robyn started attending college classes at night, earning a degree in English from the University of Washington.

But Robyn’s English degree did not put her on a satisfying career path. So she set her sights on being a lawyer. Adept at test-taking, Robyn walked in “cold”—without preparation—to take the LSAT, the admissions test that most aspiring lawyers dread. She did astonishingly well, scoring 175 out of a possible 180 points, which put her in the top 1% of test takers.

Today, Robyn smiles and shrugs at this accomplishment: “Two parts of the test—the reading comprehension and analytical reasoning parts—tend to be easier for most people than the third part, the ‘logical reasoning’ section. A lot of law students sweated the logic questions. But doing logic problems has been a hobby of mine since I was in high school. So I enjoyed that part of the LSAT and did well on it. But I don’t believe high test scores are a good way of determining who will be successful ultimately.”

Her high LSAT scores won her admission into Vanderbilt, William & Mary, and the five other law schools to which she applied. Washington and Lee sweetened its offer with a $10,000 per year scholarship. That, plus the attractiveness of Lexington, Va., for raising children, caused her and David to choose Washington and Lee.

As a mother, Robyn was an anomaly in her law class. Only eight of her peers had children, and all but one of them were men whose wives were the children’s primary caregivers. Robyn learned to be highly disciplined with her time—maximizing every study opportunity during the day, so that she could spend some time with her husband and sons in the evening.

After graduating, she worked with two private law firms in Richmond, Va., representing non-profit organizations and doing charitable estate planning. She next spent several years as divisional planned giving director for the Salvation Army in the Washington D.C. area.

She responded to 91����Ƶ’s advertisement for a planned giving officer early in 2011, because she liked the Christian values and overall ethos that she found on 91����Ƶ’s website. When she interviewed with executive director of development Phil Helmuth, her interest was further kindled: “He stressed the importance
of relationships and of protecting our donors, of making every effort to ensure that they are not harmed by their giving. It must be a win-win situation, where they are helped by their gifts and 91����Ƶ is too.

“91����Ƶ would never let someone, for example, put all their assets into a gift annuity with us,” she said. “It would be a fixed income for them and they wouldn’t be able to get to what they needed if they had an unexpected change in their life circumstances. The annuity is a wonderful way to get some secure and stable income, but we would want them to keep some of their money out of the annuity.”

Robyn visits 91����Ƶ supporters to give them information about estate planning and to answer their questions, without charge. She helps them to understand ways that they can, for instance, simultaneously provide for themselves or their spouses, derive tax benefits, and make a contribution to 91����Ƶ. But she always recommends that they double-check her advice with independent legal and tax advisers.

This Christmas season, decided to give the gift of life—to a total stranger. He underwent surgery on Dec. 8, 2011, in order to donate his kidney to someone he’s never met.

“I’ve been blessed all my life with really good health,” said Miller, on Dec. 29, 2011. “I just felt like some people just don’t have that.” Miller is director of student programs at 91����Ƶ, Harrisonburg, Va.

Miller has wanted to do this since 1999 when Ken Schuler, also from Rockingham County, Va., donated a lobe of his liver to a stranger in Virginia Beach. At the time, Schuler’s daughter attended Broadway High School where Miller was working as a guidance counselor.

In December 2010 Miller started undergoing the required tests for a kidney donation at the University of Virginia Medical Center in Charlottesville, Va. The process took about six months, beginning with the least invasive tests and building up to MRIs and other such analyses. UVA assigned Miller his own advocate to ensure rights and objectivity, and the recipient’s insurance covered all medical costs; Miller only had to pay for transportation.

Because he had been told to expect to be off work for about four weeks after the surgery, Miller decided not to squeeze it in at the end of the summer. Rather, he waited for December when he knew he would have enough time to recover. But barely more than two weeks later, he could “hardly tell I had the surgery” except for a bit of soreness and scarring.

Miller had a good recovery, which he attributes to his good physical condition prior to surgery. He was up and walking after two days, and going for hour-long walks every day just two-and-a-half weeks later.

Miller does not know who received his kidney, as UVA keeps donors and recipients anonymous for one year after the procedure. This not only protects the donor in case the recipient’s body rejects the new kidney, but also reduces emotional stress on the recipient, who already has plenty to deal with. After one year recipients are given the option to contact their donors.

For the time being, “you sort of just hope that it worked,” said Miller, and “hope that they can enjoy their life a little more as a result.”

According to Miller, UVA has about 500 people on their waiting list for kidney transplants, but they only receive about 40 living donations each year. Only two of those exchanges have remained anonymous in the last two years.

Knowing this exceeding demand, Miller encourages others to donate organs as he has.

“If people are so inclined, there is a big need for it,” he said. “People seem to think it’s a really big deal, but it’s not a difficult process.”

Miller spent only two days in the hospital and less than three weeks recovering. But as with any significant surgery, he points out, there is some risk.

“It’s a very tangible donation, even if you don’t know the recipient,” Miller said, that will “maybe even save their life.”

– , head men’s soccer coach and assistant professor of physical education;

– , director of institutional research and effectiveness; and

– , administrative assistant to the vice president and seminary dean.

The quarterly awards recognize 91����Ƶ faculty and staff who “go beyond the call of duty in service to 91����Ƶ.” Recipients receive a certificate and are recognized in special ways by 91����Ƶ President Loren Swartzendruber.