Denise was a Past Worthy Advisor of Pleasanton Assembly No. 58 of the International Order of the Rainbow for Girls and served in 1989 as Grand Circulation Manager of the Pot of Gold, the state newspaper.

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Sometimes, parents know from the very beginning what their children will become. An artist, an author. A doctor, a lawyer. True talents show early.

Jack and Linda Aydelott knew immediately that their daughter, Denise, possessed special gifts of compassion, patience and selfless love.

They were right. Denise Aydelott Krell, who earned a master's degree in social work and dedicated her life to ridding the world of domestic violence, was destined to make a difference in countless lives.

Friends say Denise's gifts were inherited. Jack and Linda chose to share their love and home with foster children, most of them with special needs. The first arrived on Denise's first birthday.

Linda smiles, remembering the day and what an irony it would become. It was almost as if Denise's birthday gift that year was a road map for her future.

Denise welcomed the new child into the family and, barely a toddler herself, became like a surrogate mother.

"She was one of those unusual people who had a natural ability," Linda says. "Once she touched anyone, she had a friend forever."

Other children followed, including six the Aydelotts adopted. Denise was part sister, part mother to all of them. She was particularly close to those who needed the most help, including one boy who couldn't speak, hear or see.

Their birthdays were only a few days apart, and each year they shared a cake and a miracle. The child had so many physical problems, doctors hadn't expected to him to live. But with Denise's love, they celebrated six birthdays.

Denise's childhood was filled with the normal things girls do school, cheerleading, boys. But that was the surface stuff. It was Denise who would take a new student under her wing, Denise who befriended the outcasts, Denise who gave her lunch money for a good cause.

At age 12, she joined Rainbow for Girls, an organization that emphasizes leadership, church membership and participation, patriotism, cooperation, love of home, loyalty to family and service to humanity.

Denise liked all aspects of Rainbow, but she loved the service part. She threw herself into all the projects, Linda and Jack say, volunteering with a number of organizations and helping to raise money for countless more. The project might end, but Denise would continue to volunteer. She later was elected to a state office and continued to work with the organization even after she exceeded the membership age limit.

No one was surprised when Denise decided to pursue a career in social work. By the time she had earned her master's from San Jose State, she had worked or volunteered at a dozen places.

She worked in the Berryessa School District with children who had destructive behavior, learning difficulties and low self-esteem. She worked at The Connection in San Jose, a program for pregnant and parenting teens. She tutored children in English and Spanish. She was assistant to the director of the Moreland Area Community Centers in San Jose. She also worked with Child Advocates in Santa Clara and San Mateo counties and was a family service worker for the Berkeley-Albany YMCA Head Start program.

For the past three years, she had worked with Battered Women's Alternatives, in programs that focused on the children. She oversaw the conversion of a West Contra Costa shelter into transitional housing and eventually became manager of the Rollie Mullen Center, a 24-bed shelter and six-family transitional housing center in the Concord area. In recent months, Denise had created her own social work and counseling service.

Denise often was the victim of her own success, says her husband, Craig Krell. She would start out working in hands-on programs, but because she was so organized and so good at what she did, she was soon promoted into management positions. "She struggled with wanting to earn a living, to have her own money," Craig says, "and wanting to help people. Our society doesn't put much value on helping others, and so it was a struggle for her."

"She would have been happy," Jack says, "if she could have spent her life volunteering for no pay."

Denise would take the management jobs, then turn around and volunteer in the area she'd just been promoted out of.

Cheryl Vohland, Denise's supervisor at Battered Women's Alternatives, says in a field replete with remarkable people, Denise stood out.

"She had a gift," Cheryl says. "She was very kind-hearted, very gentle. She just had a special gift for working with children."

Craig carefully unzips the leather agenda where Denise recorded every moment of her busy life. Each page is filled with appointments, reminders, phone numbers of friends some newly made, some lifelong pals. She reached out to everyone she met, Craig says.

It had been Denise who had reached out to Craig almost five years ago, and Denise who had dragged him back into the world of the living, he says. He remembers the day and every moment of the four years, eight months and 14 days they had together.

Craig was going through a divorce when he met Denise. The split had been amicable, but it was still difficult. Craig closed himself away. He wore his wedding ring as a shield against emotional commitment.

"I didn't want to date anyone and I didn't want to get involved with anyone," Craig says. "But Denise changed all that."

They met at a dance and were in the same group that later went for pizza. Denise was coming out of a long-term relationship and, at first, she and Craig were friends. Then one day, there was something else between them.

"I had written this long letter explaining why I couldn't get involved with her," Craig says, "but that night I drove her home and she must have sent me a telepathic message."

Craig grins as he retells the story. He looked in her eyes and forgot all the reasons why he couldn't love her. Truth was, he already was in love with her. The following year, they were married.

Denise's love was a great gift, Craig says. But she also introduced him to a world he had never known, that of volunteerism. He'd never met anyone who cared so much about others, and who would do anything, make any sacrifice if it would help someone else.

Denise seemed to have her life planned out, but then she ran into a brick wall. This spring, Denise was diagnosed with lupus, a disabling, potentially fatal autoimmune disorder. She struggled with aching joints and numbness, rashes and depression. Her doctor warned her about staying away from stress, so she decided to leave her job at Battered Women's Alternatives.

She continued to volunteer, to write letters to children she had met over the years, to teach classes on domestic violence, but trouble was brewing. Her family believes it was the lupus and the harsh news she probably would never be able to have children that made her lose perspective. She lost her hope.

In early August, Craig and Denise went on vacation, and she seemed to rebound. But the day after they returned, Denise killed herself. She was 30.

"When I look at all she did in her life, all she accomplished," Jack says, "I can't believe she was only 30."

Craig, Jack and Linda are hoping that if anything can come from Denise's death, it will be that people will do something to honor that strong spirit she possessed, that they will make a donation to a group, or sign up to volunteer, or reach a hand out to a child.

Make a difference, they say. Make a difference for Denise.