Tuesday, June 16, 2026

MacKenzie Scott

A bedroom in San Francisco, sometime in the mid-1970s.
A six-year-old girl sat on her bed with a stack of paper and began writing a story. She called it The Book Worm. By the time she finished, it was 142 handwritten pages long.
She was a quiet child who loved stories. While other kids spent their afternoons watching television, she spent hers creating imaginary worlds and filling notebooks with characters and plots.
Then, a few years later, disaster struck.
A flood swept through her family's home and destroyed the manuscript she had worked so hard to create.
Many children would have been devastated enough to quit.
She didn't.
She simply started writing again.
She continued through middle school, through the prestigious Hotchkiss School in Connecticut, and eventually to Princeton University, where she studied English. There, she enrolled in a creative writing workshop taught by celebrated novelist and Nobel Prize winner Toni Morrison.
Morrison quickly recognized her talent.
Years later, she would describe her as one of the best students she had ever taught.
The young writer graduated from Princeton in 1992 and moved to New York City. To support herself while working on her first novel, she took a job at the hedge fund D. E. Shaw.
Her desk happened to be near that of a vice president named Jeff Bezos.
The two began dating and married in 1993.
A year later, they packed up their lives and drove across the country to Seattle with an idea that sounded almost impossible at the time: selling books over the internet.
The company was called Amazon.
MacKenzie Scott was there from the beginning.
She wrote the company's first business plan. She managed accounts. She handled administrative work. She even helped pack and ship some of the first customer orders from a converted garage.
Yet while helping build what would become one of the largest companies in history, she never gave up on her own dream.
Writing.
It took nearly a decade, balancing Amazon and raising four children, but she eventually completed her first novel.
The Testing of Luther Albright was published in 2005 and won the American Book Award the following year.
Toni Morrison praised the novel, calling it "a sophisticated novel that breaks and swells the heart."
A second novel followed in 2013.
Then came a turning point that changed the course of her life.
In January 2019, MacKenzie and Jeff Bezos announced their divorce after a long separation.
As part of the settlement, she received approximately four percent of Amazon's stock, worth around $38 billion at the time.
It was widely considered the largest divorce settlement in history.
She dropped the surname Bezos and adopted her middle name, Scott.
Then she made a decision that surprised almost everyone.
She began giving the money away.
Just four months after the divorce announcement, she signed the Giving Pledge, committing to donate the majority of her wealth during her lifetime.
In her letter, she wrote a simple sentence:
"I have a disproportionate amount of money to share."
Unlike many billionaires, she did not create a large foundation bearing her name. She did not build a sprawling bureaucracy or require organizations to navigate endless grant applications.
Instead, she and a small team quietly researched nonprofits doing meaningful work in education, public health, racial equity, economic opportunity, gender equality, and other causes.
When they found organizations they believed in, they often reached out unexpectedly.
Many nonprofit leaders received phone calls they initially thought were scams.
The caller would explain that MacKenzie Scott wanted to donate several million dollars.
No lengthy application process.
No complicated reporting requirements.
No restrictions on how the money had to be spent.
Just trust.
In 2022, she launched Yield Giving to publicly share information about her philanthropy.
The following year, she opened a nationwide application process, allowing smaller organizations that had never crossed her radar a chance to receive support.
The giving continued to grow.
By July 2020, she had donated $1.7 billion.
By the end of 2022, that figure had surpassed $14 billion.
By the end of 2024, it had reached $19 billion.
And by the end of 2025, MacKenzie Scott had given away more than $26 billion to roughly 2,700 organizations across the United States and around the world.
In 2025 alone, she donated $7.1 billion. Hundreds of millions went to historically Black colleges and universities, including Howard, Spelman, Morehouse, and many others.
Often, the public didn't learn about the gifts until the recipients announced them themselves.
When Scott reflected on her philanthropy in a year-end essay in 2025, she noted that headlines would naturally focus on the size of the donations.
But she believed the real story wasn't about the money.
It was about the people and communities being strengthened by it.
Looking back, there is something remarkable about the journey.
A little girl in San Francisco once spent her days writing stories by hand.
She lost her first book in a flood.
She kept writing anyway.
She studied under Toni Morrison. She helped build Amazon from the ground up. She published acclaimed novels. She emerged from one of the largest divorce settlements in history with extraordinary wealth.
And then she began using that wealth to create opportunities for others.
She didn't put her name on buildings.
She didn't build a foundation centered around herself.
She simply found organizations doing good work and gave them the resources to do more.
She had spent her life writing stories.
Now, in a way, she was helping thousands of others write their own.

True greatness is measured by what we are willing to give away

He never owned a car. He never used a modern smartphone. And for most of his life, he lived in a small, modest apartment, wearing clothes that were simple and worn by time.
Yet Muhammad Mashali quietly changed thousands of lives.
Across Egypt, and far beyond it, he became known as “the Doctor of the Poor.” For more than fifty years, he worked in the city of Tanta, in the Nile Delta, offering care to anyone who came through his door.
Every morning, he walked to his clinic. There were no private cars or assistants, only routine and purpose. Inside, he often saw dozens of patients a day, sometimes working long hours without pause.
His fees were symbolic. For those who could pay, it was less than a dollar. For those who could not, there was no charge at all.
His life’s path was shaped early. He graduated from medical school with distinction in 1967, and he carried with him a memory of sacrifice. His father had worked tirelessly to support his education, giving up his own comfort so his son could study medicine.
After his father’s death, he made a personal vow: he would never take money from someone who could not afford to pay.
And he kept that promise for the rest of his life.
Over time, his reputation grew far beyond his city. Stories of the doctor who treated the poor for free began to spread across Egypt and eventually beyond its borders.
At one point, a wealthy businessman from the Gulf offered him gifts in recognition of his work: a luxury apartment, a new car, and a large sum of money.
He accepted none of it for himself.
Instead, he sold the gifts and used the money to improve his clinic and provide medicine for his patients.
When asked why he refused personal comfort, his answer was simple. He said he did not need luxury, because his purpose was service.
In his clinic, there were no divisions between people. He treated everyone the same, regardless of religion or background. Muslims and Coptic Christians waited side by side, not as categories, but as patients in need of care.
His kindness often went beyond medicine. If someone could not afford their prescription, he would quietly help them anyway, sometimes slipping money into their hands so they could still get the treatment they needed.
In 2020, Dr. Mashali passed away at the age of 76.
He left behind no fortune, no property empire, and no public display of wealth.
What he left instead was something far greater: a legacy of compassion, humility, and service.
In a world that often measures success by what people accumulate, his life told a different story.
True greatness, he showed, is measured by what we are willing to give away.