The Legacy We Leave: Reflections on John Candy, Donors, and the Quiet Power of Kindness

This week my husband and I watched the new documentary about the life of John Candy (John Candy: I Like Me, on Amazon Prime). With interviews from Mel Brooks, Catherine O’Hara, Tom Hanks, Macaulay Culkin, and many others, the film captures the remarkable warmth that shaped Candy’s life and career. We came for the comedy.

We left wishing we had known the man behind it—someone whose legacy extended far beyond his films.

The documentary reminded me that legacy is rarely one-dimensional. Yes, John Candy’s legacy includes unforgettable characters, iconic lines, and the kind of gentle humor that still makes people laugh decades later. But what stood out most was how consistently everyone—from family members to coworkers to near-strangers—described his kindness. His presence. His generosity of spirit.

Conan O’Brien shared a story about meeting Candy only once, when, as a student, he was unexpectedly given the job of picking him up from the airport for an event at Harvard. Instead of brushing off the young host or retreating into celebrity distance, Candy spent the day connecting—really connecting—with every person he met. O’Brien described it as the kind of encounter that stays with you for the rest of your life. And that is legacy too.

Legacy in Fundraising: What We Leave Behind Matters

Watching the film, I couldn’t help thinking about the philanthropists and donors we work with as major gift fundraisers. The idea of legacy is almost always present—sometimes explicitly, sometimes quietly in the background.

Many donors naturally ask: What will remain after I’m gone? What impact will my gift have? What difference will I leave in the world?

It’s our responsibility—not as gift askers, but as trusted partners—to help them see the full power of their generosity. Of course, gifts fuel programs, fund scholarships, support research, and change lives in tangible ways.

But the deeper truth is this:

A donor’s legacy is rarely just the money. It is the change they spark. It is the values they reinforce. It is the hope they invest in communities they may never meet. It is the influence they have on others who choose to give after witnessing their example.

Sometimes a donor’s legacy is a named fund or a building. Other times, it’s the simple—yet profound—act of believing in a mission and helping it grow. And just like John Candy’s impact lives on in the stories people tell about him, a donor’s quiet kindness often becomes part of the fabric of an organization long after the dollars are spent.

But Fundraisers Hold a Legacy, Too

We often talk about donor legacy, but we don’t talk enough about the legacy of those raising the funds.

As fundraisers, our legacy is defined not by the dollars we secure but by how we treat people—how we listen, how we show up, how we honor a donor’s motivations and help them see the change they can make.

A great fundraiser doesn’t pressure or persuade. A great fundraiser illuminates possibility. A great fundraiser sees philanthropy not as a transaction but as a relationship built on trust, dignity, and shared purpose.

Like John Candy, whose kindness shaped every room he entered, the best fundraisers leave people feeling seen—valued—respected. That is its own kind of legacy, one that spreads from donor to beneficiary to community.

Legacy Is Not a Monument—It’s a Ripple

John Candy taught, simply by being himself, that humor paired with kindness becomes something enduring. Something people talk about long after the moment has passed.

In philanthropy, legacy works the same way.

A donor’s contribution may build a program, launch an initiative, or transform a life. But the true legacy is in the ripple effect—the lives those beneficiaries go on to touch, the systems changed, the future made possible.

And as fundraisers, the conversations we have, the respect we show, and the way we help donors see their role in shaping the world—those are ripples, too.

A Final Thought

Legacy isn’t measured in fame or fortune or the size of a gift. It’s measured in kindness, impact, and influence—the things that last.

John Candy left the world laughter, yes.

But more importantly, he left love, generosity, and a model for living with humility and warmth.

If our donors, and we as fundraisers,can aspire to leave a legacy like that, then the work we do becomes not just meaningful, but beautiful.

Looking for support and help during this very busy time of year (and beyond)

reach out today. We are Team Kat & Mouse dedicated to helping you grow your fundraising.