For Stephen and Heather, Sundays are about showing up for the people who once showed up for them. Nearly every week for the past five years, the father-daughter pair—Heather now in her 50s—have made a familiar three-minute drive to the Emergency Department at Sonoma Valley Hospital, carrying homemade treats and handwritten cards that say it all: You are appreciated.
Stephen and Heather have lived in Sonoma for more than 30 years. Stephen, a retired pastor of Trinity Episcopal Church, is deeply woven into the fabric of this community. Through his pastoral work, he’s been at countless hospital bedsides—welcoming newborns, comforting families in crisis, and sitting with those at the end of life. He knows hospitals from the inside out. But it wasn’t until a late night visit with Heather five years ago that his relationship with Sonoma Valley Hospital changed in a profound way.
Heather lives with Type 2 insulin-dependent diabetes, a condition that can shift dangerously in a matter of minutes. One Sunday night, her blood sugar spiked beyond what Stephen could manage at home. Rather than making the 45-minute drive to Kaiser, where they’ve been members for more than 40 years, Stephen brought Heather just three minutes down the road to the Sonoma ER. Her blood sugar was over 630 —dangerously high. The team acted quickly, gently bringing her back to stability.
It wasn’t just the medical care that stood out. It was the compassion.
“The staff didn’t rush us,” Stephen remembers. “They made us feel seen and safe. It felt like a hometown hospital. And when we got back in the car, Heather turned to me and said, ‘I want to go back to that hospital.'”
That one visit sparked what has become a quiet, powerful tradition of gratitude.
Every Sunday around 8:00 PM, Stephen and Heather walk into the Emergency Department with a new batch of cookies, lemon bars, brownies, or a Greek pastry brushed with butter and honey. Heather handwrites a card for each delivery, often including a Bible verse and a poem for nurses. On holidays, they add something extra—Halloween cookies, a stuffed bunny at Easter for any child in the ER, or a Christmas basket.
Their ritual continued—paused only briefly during the height of COVID —and has now become part of the hospital’s rhythm. So much so that even staff who don’t typically work Sunday nights know their names. “One of my friends told me, ‘You’re famous in the ER,'” Stephen laughs.
The Director of Emergency Services, Mary Lou Ehret stayed late just to be there when Stephen and Heather arrived. “She wanted to thank us for what we’ve done,” Stephen said. “That meant a lot.”
Their Sunday tradition is just one part of a life built on service and care.
Heather, now in her 30s, leads a busy life in Sonoma. She’s a proud Special Olympics softball player (first base!), loves puzzles, Legos, and video games, and is building her independence with the support of Becoming Independent. Every week, she pours her creativity into those cards — to give back to those who took care of her at the Hospital.
For Stephen, the habit of showing appreciation through baked goods runs deep. When his wife was battling cancer, he regularly brought cookies to the nursing staff on the oncology unit. “I learned then that small acts mean a lot,” he said. “When someone shows up for you, you want to show up for them.”
That’s the spirit behind My Hospital—a campaign that recognizes how deeply personal and impactful a community hospital can be. It’s not just about bricks and mortar. It’s about people like Stephen and Heather, who turn gratitude into action. And it’s about nurses, doctors, and staff who make every patient feel seen, even in the middle of the night.
Stephen and Heather would say the hospital made a difference in their lives.
Every Sunday night, they return the favor—with cookies, kindness, and heartfelt thanks.