Wrapping Up a Lesson in Compassion at Middlebrook — One Blanket at a Time

At Middlebrook, Compassion Came in Fleece and Fringe

On Wednesday morning last week, Middlebrook School didn’t sound like a typical middle school.

Instead of lockers slamming and bells ringing, classrooms buzzed with a different kind of energy — upbeat music playing in the background, scissors snipping fleece, students leaning over tables together, and conversations about babies they will likely never meet, but will forever be connected to.

By the end of the day, the students completed more than 900 handmade fleece blankets — all of them destined for neonatal intensive care units at Connecticut hospitals through the Tiny Miracles Foundation.

But what happened inside the building went far beyond blanket-making. It was a lesson in empathy, in action.

A Project Nearly Two Decades in the Making

For Middlebrook teacher Kelly DePiano, the moment was the realization of something she has been carrying for years.

“This has been a dream of mine — to have every kid in the building make a blanket, and we’re doing it,” DePiano said. “I think I can cry talking about this.”

The Blankets for Preemies project began 19 years ago, rooted in DePiano’s own experience as a mother of premature twins and later shaped by devastating loss.

“I had twins who were premature. I lived in Norwalk Hospital for a month,” she said. “They were born two months early… and I was very fortunate that my kids met all the milestones and really did fantastic.”

That sense of gratitude changed forever after her close friend Danielle Maloney had a son named Sean, also born premature, but who didn’t make it.

“I thought everybody would have the same outcome as me — that they would have these beautiful children,” DePiano said. “And I was just devastated.”

Determined to do something meaningful, DePiano turned to her students — and to a chance encounter with a NICU nurse — which led to the idea of making fleece blankets, and eventually to Tiny Miracles, a Fairfield County nonprofit founded by mothers to support families navigating the NICU.

DePiano started the project while teaching at Darien, with her students making blankets in Sean’s name. When she began teaching at Middlebrook, DePiano brought the Blankets for Preemies project with her. It was here in Wilton this year that it took on a life of its own.

A Schoolwide Effort — and a Community One

On this day at Middlebrook, every student in the building took part.

“We’ve never done anything like this, where we’ve done a whole-school activity like this,” Principal Jory Higgins said. “We’ve never mixed up sixth, seventh and eighth grade together like this.”

The planning took months. The scale required creativity, flexibility — and buy-in from everyone.

“This didn’t just happen,” Higgins said. “It’s been many months in the making, and it’s beautiful to see it come to fruition.”

Classrooms were intentionally mixed by grade level, with eighth graders stepping into leadership roles.

“We wanted the eighth graders to take a lead,” DePiano explained. “We wanted them mentoring the younger kids.”

Students wore Wilton’s colors — blue and white — to represent unity. PTA grants funded hundreds of fabric scissors. A bake sale raised more than $4,500. Additional materials were funded with help from the Maloney family so the entire school could participate.

“I cannot speak highly enough of these people here in Wilton,” DePiano said. “This community is just amazing.”

As blankets took shape, so did the meaning behind them.

DePiano, Maloney and representatives from Tiny Miracles moved from classroom to classroom, thanking students personally and explaining exactly where the blankets would go — and why they matter.

LeeLee Smith Kline, a Tiny Miracles volunteer hospital mentor, told the students how important the blankets are.

“These blankets are not just a gift,” she said. “They’re actually helping with the development of a premature baby. They help the baby’s sensory system and their brain development.”

She explained that covering incubators reduces light and noise — conditions critical for premature infants.

“You’re actually doing way more than providing love,” she said. “You’re helping babies develop better.”

For many students, the message hit close to home.

In nearly every classroom, hands went up when asked if anyone had been born early — or knew someone who had. Some had received Tiny Miracles blankets themselves years ago.

“We’ll see them years later with their blankets — when they’re toddlers and even older,” said Erin Eblen, the administrative coordinator for Tiny Miracles (and a mom of a preemie herself). “And it’s so wonderful to know the program will continue.”

Sean’s Legacy

At the heart of the day was Sean James Maloney, whose life continues to ripple outward in extraordinary ways.

“For our family, it’s incredible,” Danielle Maloney said. “It’s so important for your child to be remembered.”

She spoke about watching hundreds of students create something in her son’s memory.

“We can’t thank Kelly enough for her enthusiasm and passion,” she said. “And Tiny Miracles, and the principal, and the teachers — time is so precious. It’s incredible.”

For DePiano, Sean’s story is central to the lesson she hopes students carry forward.

“There probably will be something really bad that happens in your life,” she tells them. “And it’s what you do with it — how you can turn it around and make lemonade out of lemons.”

The Giver’s Glow

Throughout the day, DePiano asked students one question.

“Are you feeling the ‘giver’s glow’?”

DePiano described the premise in simple terms, and how she wanted to teach them about what it means to give for philanthropy.

“How giving and helping and doing something really is good for your health and makes you feel good. … I want them to feel that giver’s glow, and to feel empowered, like they not only did they raise money, but they’re doing something, they’re making something, and it’s just, it’s magical. It really is magical,” she said.

As the final blankets were gathered for a schoolwide photo, there was a sense that something lasting had taken root inside Middlebrook.

“What we are doing today goes far beyond blankets,” Higgins told students earlier in the day. “We are showing that when we work together, we can turn empathy into impact.”

For DePiano, the moment offered reassurance about the future of a project she has carried for nearly two decades.

“I hope they keep doing it,” she said. “And I really believe they will.”

Judging by the pride on students’ faces — and the hundreds of blankets soon to wrap the tiniest miracles in warmth — that legacy is already well underway.