InspirationLynn Ling, 43, caregiver and mortuary worker, Laguna Niguel, CA; mom of Ryan, 11A little more than a decade after she immigrated to America from Vietnam, Lynn Ling had a top job with a medical equipment firm, a gorgeous home in an upscale southern California community and a hefty six-figure income. All before age 30. "I was living the American dream," she says with a laugh. "I was the American dream."But Lynn soon faced an important decision. Her company, which four years prior had moved her from Connecticut to California, wanted her to transfer back again. But by then Lynn had moved her younger brother, Thanh, disabled by cerebral palsy, to California, where he had a better life. He desperately needed someone to arrange and supervise his 24-hour care, so Lynn gave up her high-powered job as a comptroller to stay and care for her brother. When she saw he was being shortchanged on benefits, she didn't shrug her shoulders and accept it. Lynn took the case to court. "Something had to be done," she says.Opportunities certainly arise in unexpected places. Lynn won the court battle for her brother, now 30, and so impressed her bureaucratic opponents that they hired her to help secure federal benefits for disabled veterans in Orange County. Today, Lynn embraces her role as an advocate for the disabled—a calling she heard even louder when her only child, Ryan, was diagnosed at age 2 with dermatomyositis, an uncommon inflammatory muscle disease that results in weak muscles and a troublesome skin rash. Ryan requires regular surgery to remove calcium deposits from under his skin. Although she no longer works for Orange County, Lynn continues to fight for those who need her by running in annual jog-a-thons for multiple sclerosis, hosting frequent "wheelchair parties" in her home for people with developmental disabilities and fund-raising for 9/11 victims. Her current profession is funeral director's assistant, and the compassion she's shown in this work is considered a priceless asset. Lynn admits that her vision of success looks very different than it did when she was a teenage refugee. And it looks different than it did when she arrived in this country and cleaned houses, worked in a factory and took a bottom-rung position in a medical equipment firm. Today, success isn't about living in a particular zip code or earning a fat paycheck. "I know my purpose," she says. "The satisfaction of helping those who can't help themselves is far more valuable than money."

IconMeenakshi Noll, PhD, 41, researcher of molecular and medical genetics, Beaverton, OR; mom of Ann-Christine, 6On a chilly October evening, Dr. Meenakshi Noll tucks the covers around her daughter's chin and delivers a good-night kiss. Then the molecular scientist drives back to her laboratory and works until nearly 11:00 p.m. Later she returns home for a few hours' sleep, heading back to the lab before dawn. "There are days I don't see my daughter," says Meenakshi. "But she's the inspiration for my work. As a mother, I could not imagine losing my child. I want to help prevent other mothers from losing theirs."Meenakshi, who recently left her post at Oregon Health & Science University in Portland after 12 years and awaits a university assignment in Germany, is one of the world's leading researchers of Fanconi anemia (FA), a fatal genetic disorder associated with multiple severe birth defects as well as a predisposition to cancer. It affects about 3,000 families worldwide and is particularly prevalent in Ashkenazi Jews. Most with FA don't reach age 30. The disease is more well known in Oregon because of its diagnosis in the three daughters—Kirsten, Katie and Amy—of Dave Frohnmayer, president of the University of Oregon, and his wife, Lynn. The Frohnmayers founded the Fanconi Anemia Research Fund in 1989, before Kirsten and Katie died of FA. Bone marrow transplantation via sibling or unrelated stem cell donors is currently the only long-term cure. The urgency to find other viable cures is what drives Meenakshi. And, hoping to shepherd the next generation of researchers, she has worked with high school students to help them develop their own science skills. Despite her packed schedule, Meenakshi picks up her daughter from the baby-sitter by 4:00 p.m. Then they bake cookies or do beading projects, cook traditional Indian curries for dinner and enjoy playful bedtime routines. "I always make sure to have one full day off on the weekend," Meenakshi says, "a day packed with ballet, swimming and tap classes." Recently, Meenakshi's research team successfully replaced the bone marrow of FA mice with healthy cells. The discovery is exciting, but application in humans is far more complex. That's why she plans to make yet another sacrifice—to move her work to Germany, where, she says, "rules on working with stem cells are much more flexible than in America." She adds: "I want my daughter to be proud of me, not only for being a good mother but also for doing something important in this world. To me, little would be more important than finding a treatment that could help another child live a normal life."

InnovatorBeth Hope, 47, founder, Hope House, and vice president of sales, Autoland, Woodland Hills, CA; mom of Erin, 19, Sean, 14, Brittany, 11, and Connor, 6Beth Hope has never been able to drive by homeless women on the streets. She'd not only stop and offer a sandwich and some money, sometimes she offered her sofa. "Some people bring home stray dogs and cats," Beth says. "I'd bring home stray people." Friends suggested that Beth formalize her good deeds, so in 1989 she took out a personal loan and rented a suburban house for homeless women that was soon filled with extraordinary stories. Tormented by everything from drug addiction to domestic abuse, the women at Hope House have for 17 years benefited from food, shelter, medical care and links to public programs that can help them turn their lives around.Beth's empathy comes from a personal place. She was born and raised in Monterey, CA, by a single mother who worked three jobs. Beth attended an excellent school on full scholarship and then moved to Los Angeles, where she earned a bachelor's degree from UCLA. After that, she waited tables to save money for law school. But a seren-dipitous encounter with a customer changed all of that: The owner of Autoland, the nation's largest credit-union auto-buying service, was so impressed with Beth (her ability to push the dessert tray was notorious) that he hired her. "The rest is history," says Beth, who 21 years later is vice president of sales ($270 million yearly!). Though lots of people at Hope House and Autoland depend on her, Beth always puts family first, says daughter Brittany, who nominated her mom for this award. "With all the demands from her work and home, she still manages to give some special time to each of us," Brittany wrote. Beth sees it this way: "I want my children to know that not everyone has it as good as they do, and those of us who have it pretty good have an obligation to give back. If they understand this, then I've done my job."