“Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat.” Mother Teresa’s words grace the home page of the Twilight Wish Foundation, a somber reminder of the abject loneliness that the elderly often face when they become isolated by disease and location. Her words, too, are somewhat of a rallying cry for the foundation’s goal: to bring smiles, joy, and comfort to elders who have brought smiles to others, by granting them a wish.

Cass Forkin, who started the organization, found her calling in 2002. She was at a diner with her teenage daughter when she saw three elderly ladies carefully counting their money to pay for a meal. Realizing that eating out “was a big treat for them,” she called the waitress over and said she was going to pay for their meal, but asked that it be done anonymously.” The waitress spilled the beans, and the grateful women went to her table. One of them hugged her and said, “We didn’t know there were people like you anymore.”

The comment stuck with her, as did the feeling that there should be some way to thank and honor seniors. The seed firmly planted, her organization was born in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, in July 2003, with the specific goal of granting wishes to deserving seniors. The first wish went to a wheelchair-bound woman in January 2004. It wasn’t a request you might have expected—not a free ticket to an event of a lifetime or airfare to see a long-lost friend. She asked for a tombstone for her grown son who had recently died.

Now, five years and 1,067 wishes later, Forkin is busy taking requests. “At any given point, we have 125 open wishes,” meaning that funding or contacts are needed in order for the wish to become a reality.

It might be that arrangements have to be made for a dentist to provide dentures or a favorite baseball player to be available for a one-on-one meeting. One woman in hospice wanted to hear a beloved popular singer, who wound up serenading her by phone three days before she died. A 75-year-old man had, for 40 years, wanted to go up in a fighter jet. A 100-year-old wanted to ride in the sidecar of a motorcycle. Another woman wanted to serve once more at a diner she had worked in. A World War II vet wanted to see the war memorial in Washington, D.C., before he died. (More than 30% of wishes come from veterans, Forkin said.) A 91-year-old always wanted to dance on Broadway.

All the stories are poignant, but Mack's is particularly so. Mack, 82, was an orphan. Someone took him fishing when he was young, introducing him to the beauty in the world. His wish was to do the same for underprivileged kids (pictured above).