A month after the revelation of an Alabama farmer’s decade-old donations to help people in town pay their pharmacy bills, Hody Childress’ fund is now four times what it was when he died on New Year’s Day.

And as news of the DeKalb County man’s generosity makes its way around the world, people are beginning their own funds in their own communities.

Childress, 80, had an arrangement with Geraldine Drugs on Richey Street in the town of less than 1,000.

On the first day of every month, he would hand a folded $100 bill to owner Brooke Walker, with the understanding that Walker would use the money to help people who couldn’t pay their drug store bills.

A retiree from Lockheed Martin in Huntsville, Childress was a farmer who survived both his wife and a son. Family remembered him as a man whose “happy place” was atop his tractor, who loved to fish, enjoyed spending time with his family, and read his Bible regularly.

Walker, who purchased part of the store in 2015, doesn’t remember exactly when Childress began the practice but thinks it was eight to 10 years ago.

“It was so casual,” Walker remembered.

“The first time, I thought that was it. He never said, ‘I’m going to keep this going.’ It just kept happening.” He didn’t want to know what the money was used for, and he wanted no credit for it. His only instruction was that recipients be told the money was “a blessing from the Lord.”

Sometimes the donation was several hundred dollars.

Walker said he would quietly hand the folded money over and walk away in a manner where anyone watching might not realize what was happening. “You know what to do with this,” he would sometimes say.

It was only three months before Childress died that he revealed the fund to his daughter, Tania Nix, when he was no longer able to leave the house.

“I was going to the drug store one day, and he said, ‘I’ve been doing something for a while, and I’d like for you to continue it while I’m alive,’” Nix said.

“I went to the drug store and I said, ‘I’m Hody Childress’ daughter and you’ll know what to do with this.’ I thought it was something he had been doing for a few months, but that’s all I knew at the time.”

It was only after Childress’ death that his family became curious and discovered how long he had been making the contributions. Walker said it was a responsibility she took very seriously. Just before people were confronted with the uncomfortable decision of buying prescriptions or going without, Walker was able to help them.

“You would see people rationalizing in their head what they’re about to do,” she said. “I was honored that he allowed me to do that. And it really encouraged me to do the same in my life.”

Within weeks of Childress’ funeral, the story of the fund was told and retold online, in newspapers, on radio and television, around the world.

Nix said she was contacted by a reporter from Japan.

The story has been told in newspapers in the U.K and Israel, among others. Walker said she has done countless interviews with media around the U.S. But the reaction, both near and far, to the story is continuing.

Childress’ family said they wished to keep the fund going. People in Geraldine began walking in, wishing to make their own contributions.

One night, Walker said, she spent her drive home from work in a 30-minute phone conversation with a man from Washington.

“He said, ‘I love people and I feel like that was his motive. Can I give you a year’s worth of his donations?’ I was totally blown away,” Walker said.

More than 20 phone calls followed from California, Minnesota, Florida. And last Wednesday, handwritten letters began arriving with donations. A few anonymous letters simply read, “You know what to do with this.” One person from St. Louis mailed a newspaper with Childress’ story and a $100 bill.

Another letter from Maryland reads in part:

“Bringing an 80 year old to tears and joy within the reading of one article reminded that there is good where hate has been spewed, hope where darkness has prevailed and that good is a family value learned well,” the letter reads. “Kindness goes a long way especially coupled with acceptance.”

One of Walker’s former graduate school classmates at a pharmacy sent her a message with a photo of a $100 bill, saying a regular customer came in referencing Childress’ story and gave the money, saying he hopes to make a similar contribution every month.

“Some of the letters we’ve received have been about what an inspiration it was to hear what Hody did,” Walker said. “It’s been an encouraging thing for them to be a more compassionate loving person, and they’re setting up Hody funds in their own towns at their own pharmacies. I knew he never would have imagined somebody in California would have done that.”

Nix, who also made a contribution to a pharmacy in her hometown, said her father would have been thankful that “people are wanting to help people.”

“I think he would be glad that people are trying to care for their own communities and the people around them,” she said.