Want to give an amputee a holiday gift like mobility, friendship, fitness, emotional strength, or the freedom to thrive? Here’s how.
By Melissa Bean Sterzick

Amplitude’s annual holiday gift guide typically features all the latest amputee-friendly merchandise. But this year we decided to focus on giving instead of receiving: We’re showcasing the profound impact nonprofit organizations can have on amputees’ lives.
When you support a nonprofit that serves the limb-loss community, you’re actually giving an incredible gift to a real person. It might be access to prosthetic devices, fashionable clothing, camaraderie, physical fitness, mental health, new skills, or simple human kindness. There are all sorts of ways to offer these presents, from financial donations to in-kind contributions, volunteer hours, and even likes/shares on social media.
To illustrate how nonprofit gifts can transform an amputee’s life, we asked some beneficiaries to share their stories. We chose not to name the nonprofits themselves, because there are far too many organizations doing essential work than we could possibly name in a single article. It wouldn’t be fair to highlight just a few. Anyway, your holiday gift isn’t for the organization. It’s for the people they serve.
If you’re looking for a nonprofit to support, or if you need support from a nonprofit, check Amplitude’s online Community Resource Directory. It lists hundreds of amputee-serving nonprofits in a searchable, sortable format.
And if you want some cool merch for yourself, too, that’s totally fair. We’ll have some ideas in our newsletter and on our website toward the end of November.
Knowledge Is Power

Megan Holt-Smith was not yet two years old when she received her first prosthesis. Funded by an organization that supports children with neuromusculoskeletal conditions, the device enabled Holt-Smith to learn how to navigate the world on her own terms.
“I got my first myoelectric arm at age four,” says Holt-Smith, now 31. “I have faint memories but strong feelings. I remember the feeling of the arm moving blowing my mind. I remember playing with different toys so I could see how the prosthetic would grip them, and I could see what it was like holding things with two hands.”
Although Holt-Smith no longer wears a prosthesis on a day-to-day basis, her formative experiences as a prosthesis user helped her manage being a lifelong amputee. She’s developed a set of tools and accommodations so she can work productively and safely. She meets regularly with a physical therapist, chiropractor, hand specialist, and personal trainer to help her manage balance issues and a tilt in her spine due to uneven weight and muscle distribution.
Sometimes she faces judgment from people who don’t understand her disability or think she’s “not disabled enough.” But she knows how to find and use accessibility resources, and she’s prepared to educate those who might be misinformed. In fact, part of her job as an advisor at Virginia Commonwealth University is helping students with disabilities get the support they need.
“We find ourselves doing things that don’t work for us until somebody points it out,” she says. “Then you have a moment of clarity when you acknowledge the world isn’t set up for people like us. So how do I navigate that?”
Find organizations that provide financial help to individuals who can’t afford prosthetic devices.
Serving the Ones Who Served

Jose Armenta found opportunity and a sense of purpose in the Marine Corps after high school. But in 2011, on patrol in Afghanistan, he and his bomb dog stepped on a pressure plate containing more than ten pounds of explosives. “I woke up five days later and realized I had lost both of my legs above the knees,” Armenta says.
After 13 surgeries and a long process of physical rehabilitation, Armenta returned to work as a police dispatcher on the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego. He also began studying finance to prepare for civilian life. After he medically retired from the Marines in 2013, Armenta taught financial literacy classes for a local nonprofit and prepared tax returns for low-income families. He was building a successful business, but the physical aspects of everyday life were a constant struggle.
“When you have to survive, you survive,” Armenta says. But on Veteran’s Day 2023, a foundation that supports veterans moved the Armentas into a mortgage-free, completely accessible home.
“This has been a huge change in our lives and a benefit for our entire family,” Armenta says. “The home has level surfaces, wide walkways, bench seating in the restrooms, pull-downs in the kitchen for when I’m in my wheelchair, and all the things that make life so much easier when you’re an amputee.”
Life with double amputation continues to be challenging. But now Armenta can spend his energy thriving, not just surviving. Housing security gave him the ability to launch his own business, take jiu-jitsu classes for fitness, and concentrate on his family.
“Before I was getting by, and now I’m excelling,” Armenta says. “This has really freed up my bandwidth so I can focus on the things that are really fulfilling in life. Maybe you don’t need a fully accessible home to survive, but having one allows you to succeed.”
Find organizations that provide support to military veterans with (and without) limb loss.
Extended Family

When Annie Garofalo was born without a left hand, her parents didn’t know where to turn. They found plenty of medical information and other practical resources, but what they craved was a personal connection with other families going through a similar experience.
The Garofalos found that community via an organization that supports children with limb differences and their families. In addition to providing knowledge, this nonprofit hosts several events every year, bringing hundreds of people together for fun and friendship.
For Garofalo, those gatherings normalized the experience of being different and gave her a support system she has leaned on her entire life.
“At first, it was for my parents,” she says. “I was very small, and it was before I realized I was limb different. They got to share what they were feeling with other parents and also see how I could have a normal life.”
That same dynamic benefited Garofalo as she grew up. The group gave her a place to talk about the times when being different is hard, and equipped her to face those difficult times.
“There is the physical side, and there is additional emotional labor,” she says. “It can be tough even admitting that there are social situations that are more difficult than others. One of the regular activities at our events is a meeting dedicated to talking about the things you have experienced that year, or questions you want to ask about things like driving or dating or being comfortable showing your arm. It’s nice to be able to talk to about that.”
Now a disability advocate and public speaker, Garofalo tells audiences that being limb different is about possibilities, not limitations. She has made it her lifelong pursuit to show others how to get past what she calls “the barrier of differences.”
“I never felt alone in the experience of having a limb difference, but I also didn’t feel like it was my main identity,” she says. “You appreciate people for the full extent of who they are, and that builds trust so you can have those harder conversations when it’s time.”
Find organizations that provide resources for children with limb loss/difference and their families.
Team Spirit

In 2018, two years after she lost her leg in a boating accident, Jackie Hamwey was finally ready to get back to snowboarding. The Winter Paralympics were held in PyeongChang, South Korea, that year, showcasing the amazing speed and skill of amputee riders. But Hamwey, an avid snowboarder since her teens, needed a high-tech prosthetic leg to perform at that level.
Then a friend connected her with a nonprofit that provides sports equipment and coaching to young adults with disabilities. Now 35, Hamwey is hoping to become a Paralympian herself. She’s competing this winter on the European race circuit in boardercross and banked slalom, hoping to accumulate enough points to vie for a spot in the 2026 Winter Games. And having her best leg under her has gone straight to Hamwey’s head—in a good way.
“When you have a disability or amputation, it’s almost like your brain puts up a wall about how much you think you can accomplish,” she says. “To break through that wall and show yourself what you can do is really rewarding. It just helps you regain that passion. As an amputee, it can be very discouraging getting back into sports and not performing as you used to. It’s a struggle. Having the right equipment and prosthetics are crucial.”
A good mental state is equally essential, Hamwey says. And she’s always buoyed by the sense of camaraderie she’s found on the slopes with her fellow riders. That sense of belonging might be the greatest benefit of having a sports-oriented prosthesis.
“I’ve joined this community of people like me—people with disabilities,” Hamwey says. “I love having that bond and relatability and meeting all these people from around the world. If I never got back to enjoying snowboarding, just for lack of the right prosthetic, I would never have had these doors opened for me.”
Upward Mobility

After losing his left leg in a motorcycle accident in his early 20s, Matt Burgos struggled with surgical complications, repeated falls, and difficulties with his prosthesis. The crisis threatened his will to go forward, but it also forced Burgos to reevaluate his life and set new priorities for his future. He decided to pursue a career as a police officer.
“I spent a lot of time being selfish,” says Burgos, now 26. “Now I want to give my time to the people who really need it. I want to be there for people who need you on their worst day, to be able to lend a hand or save a life.”
Before he could make his newfound resolve a reality, Burgos needed a prosthesis that could keep up with the demands of being a first responder. He received one this year from a foundation that provides customized prostheses to individuals who have suffered traumatic limb loss.
“It’s like going from a Honda Civic to a Ferrari,” he laughs. “I told them I was going to take off, and they didn’t believe me, but I kind of ran out of the building. I had to learn how to control it.”
The new leg is more than a mobility device for Burgos. It’s a professional building block, enabling him to pursue a career that gives his life meaning. “There’s no way I was going to make it in the other one,” he says. “The leg held me back.”
While he waits for his civil service exam scores, Burgos is working in construction, volunteering at his local fire department, and facing the future enthusiastically. “I walk with confidence,” he says. “It’s like night and day. I’m so grateful from the bottom of my heart because I know these things are unattainable for some people. I just thank God, I really do. I really think everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what it is at the moment, but there’s always a bigger picture at the end.”
Find organizations that help amputees succeed in the workforce.
Rebuilding Self-Image

In the three years since he lost his left leg in a motorcycle accident, Connor C. Stickney has learned that recovering from limb loss isn’t a linear experience. There will always be ups and downs, successes and setbacks.
Becoming a father one year after the accident helped bring a sense of healing: The Stickneys have a two-year-old son named Ford, and a baby girl due in December. And the 32-year-old Stickney has also found renewal through the support of an organization that teaches people with disabilities to wakesurf. The sport doesn’t require specialized equipment, high-priced prosthetic devices, or extreme physical gifts. The nonprofit provides boats, equipment, occupational therapists, physical therapists, and even a chase crew to pick up riders after a wipeout.
Anyone can participate, and that’s part of the appeal for Stickney.
“It’s a kind of therapy,” he says. “Part of my identity as a young man was being an athlete. To be able to do these things again as a huge confidence booster, because I didn’t know if I would be able to do them. It feels so empowering.”
It’s also a great way to build relationships with other amputees and people from the disability community, says Stickney. It changes the way he views himself—and that, in turn, changes the way other people see him.
“Having these opportunities has helped my mentality tremendously,” he says. “It feels pretty awesome to screen share and play videos of myself surfing, and my son is saying ‘Wow.’ I’m still an athlete. I’m still trying new things, even if they’re a little bit scary. I’m still conquering things. It kind of blew my mind that I could just sign up and be welcomed and taught by professionals. They really just want to support you and build a community.”
Find organizations that provide mental-health support for people with limb loss and limb difference.
Melissa Bean Sterzick is a freelance writer and writing tutor with a congenital limb difference. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two daughters.