New York (CNN) The package was delivered to the 10th-floor hospital room and addressed to Jadon and Anias McDonald, the twins born conjoined at the head whose separation surgery has inspired millions around the world.

The return address was the Otisville Correctional Facility in upstate New York. Inside were hand-drawn pictures, homemade poems and an assortment of get-well notes and prayers for the boys.

From prisoners.

"It's the best gift I've ever gotten," says the twins' mom, Nicole McDonald.

Nicole and her husband, Christian, wish the rest of the country could experience what they've seen and felt over the past month.

Christian McDonald holds his son Anias as Nicole McDonald checks on Jadon at home with the family dogs, Taz and Tyson.

Christian McDonald holds his son Anias as Nicole McDonald checks on Jadon at home with the family dogs, Taz and Tyson.

Nicole McDonald takes Anias into the family's new house for the first time with his older brother, Aza.

Nicole McDonald takes Anias into the family's new house for the first time with his older brother, Aza.

Nicole McDonald holds Jadon while looking over discharge information on September 1, as they prepare to leave the rehab facility and head home as a family for the first time.

Nicole McDonald holds Jadon while looking over discharge information on September 1, as they prepare to leave the rehab facility and head home as a family for the first time.

Jadon eats small snacks and drinks from a sippy cup on his own, major progress since he first moved to rehab.

Jadon eats small snacks and drinks from a sippy cup on his own, major progress since he first moved to rehab.

Anias plays with a toy while laying on a mat in his room at Blythedale Children's Hospital.

Anias plays with a toy while laying on a mat in his room at Blythedale Children's Hospital.

Nicole McDonald pushes a stroller with Anias as her husband Christian pushes Jadon down a hallway on June 14 at Blythedale Children's Hospital in Valhalla, New York, where the boys have been rehabilitating.

Nicole McDonald pushes a stroller with Anias as her husband Christian pushes Jadon down a hallway on June 14 at Blythedale Children's Hospital in Valhalla, New York, where the boys have been rehabilitating.

Jadon, left, and Anias McDonald look up at hospital staff as they leave their room at Montefiore Children's Hospital in New York. Their older brother, Aza, proudly sits at the front of the wagon. It was mid-December and they were headed to rehab.

Jadon, left, and Anias McDonald look up at hospital staff as they leave their room at Montefiore Children's Hospital in New York. Their older brother, Aza, proudly sits at the front of the wagon. It was mid-December and they were headed to rehab.

Nicole McDonald holds Anias as his twin brother, Jadon, sleeps in the bed to the left. The twins' older brother, Aza, watches television at the hospital from one of the boys' beds shortly before they left for rehab.

Nicole McDonald holds Anias as his twin brother, Jadon, sleeps in the bed to the left. The twins' older brother, Aza, watches television at the hospital from one of the boys' beds shortly before they left for rehab.

Dr. Oren Tepper, the twins' lead plastic surgeon, holds a thank you gift from the McDonald family presented to him at the farewell party.

Dr. Oren Tepper, the twins' lead plastic surgeon, holds a thank you gift from the McDonald family presented to him at the farewell party.

The family was headed to the hospital's banquet hall on December 13, where surgical and pediatric intensive care staff members were gathered for a farewell party.

The family was headed to the hospital's banquet hall on December 13, where surgical and pediatric intensive care staff members were gathered for a farewell party.

Anias, left, and Jadon lie in a red wagon at the Children's Hospital at Montefiore Medical Center on December 13 as they prepare for the next stage of their journey, two months after their surgery.

Anias, left, and Jadon lie in a red wagon at the Children's Hospital at Montefiore Medical Center on December 13 as they prepare for the next stage of their journey, two months after their surgery.

Nicole McDonald, right, and her mother, Chris Grosso, with Anias in mid-November. Anias had to have his skull cap removed due to infection, but doctors say they are still pleased with his recovery.

Nicole McDonald, right, and her mother, Chris Grosso, with Anias in mid-November. Anias had to have his skull cap removed due to infection, but doctors say they are still pleased with his recovery.

Anias, left, stares at Jadon for the first time since the surgery that separated them.

Anias, left, stares at Jadon for the first time since the surgery that separated them.

Jadon stretches his arms in his room within the hospital's pediatric intensive care unit. Anias rests in a nearby bed in the same room.

Jadon stretches his arms in his room within the hospital's pediatric intensive care unit. Anias rests in a nearby bed in the same room.

Newly separated twins Anias, left, and Jadon in surgery at the hospital. Goodrich informed the family of the successful separation at about 3 a.m. October 14. "Well, we did it," he told them. When it was official, the room burst into spontaneous applause.

Newly separated twins Anias, left, and Jadon in surgery at the hospital. Goodrich informed the family of the successful separation at about 3 a.m. October 14. "Well, we did it," he told them. When it was official, the room burst into spontaneous applause.

Goodrich's team worked more than 16 hours just to separate the boys, and each continued surgery individually afterward.

Goodrich's team worked more than 16 hours just to separate the boys, and each continued surgery individually afterward.

The twins' surgery was Goodrich's longest craniopagus surgery. It's meticulous, tricky and complex: A single cut too deep can lead to catastrophic bleeding.

The twins' surgery was Goodrich's longest craniopagus surgery. It's meticulous, tricky and complex: A single cut too deep can lead to catastrophic bleeding.

Dr. James Goodrich Goodrich, left, leads a surgical team as they prepared to separate the twins. "Failure is not an option," Goodrich told the team as they got started.

Dr. James Goodrich Goodrich, left, leads a surgical team as they prepared to separate the twins. "Failure is not an option," Goodrich told the team as they got started.

Nicole and Christian McDonald talk with Dr. Sanjay Gupta in the family waiting area on October 13 as a team worked to separate Jadon and Anias. "When we sent them off this morning, to me, I felt at peace with it and just ready to handle what comes after," Nicole said.

Nicole and Christian McDonald talk with Dr. Sanjay Gupta in the family waiting area on October 13 as a team worked to separate Jadon and Anias. "When we sent them off this morning, to me, I felt at peace with it and just ready to handle what comes after," Nicole said.

Anias, left, and Jadon McDonald were born conjoined at the head, something only seen in 1 out of every 2.5 million live births. They were separated in a 27-hour surgery at the Children's Hospital at Montefiore Medical Center in New York in October.

Anias, left, and Jadon McDonald were born conjoined at the head, something only seen in 1 out of every 2.5 million live births. They were separated in a 27-hour surgery at the Children's Hospital at Montefiore Medical Center in New York in October.

Generosity and gratitude. They're what Thanksgiving Day is all about, but they sometimes seem in short supply after an election that frayed nerves and divided families. And each news cycle brings another array of headlines that test people's resolve.

have skyrocketed from about $50,000 before the surgery to nearly $300,000. Nicole and Christian have seen a much different America, one filled with kind, loving and selfless people. From hugs and stuffed animals to donations and messages of support, the parents have been left in awe. Donations to their GoFundMe page to cover the boys' medical expenseshave skyrocketed from about $50,000 before the surgery to nearly $300,000.

Nicole McDonald laughs with son Anias as he recovers from separation surgery.

The parents don't quite understand the outpouring. They wonder: Why us? Why our boys?

But a nice note from a single stranger can turn an excruciating day -- one filled with tears -- into a more optimistic one. The messages come almost daily via Facebook or in the mail. Most carry similar themes: I think about your boys and pray for them every day.

"When you're just about running out of gas, it's the constant fuel that not only feels good because people care so much, it rejuvenates me in a way that I can't explain," Nicole says.

Christian says he appreciates people's prayers more than anything. "I know God hears prayers," he says. "I think our prayers did influence God to help out."

And that is their message this Thanksgiving: Use the positivity shown to their boys and roll that energy into doing something good for others. In their case, the parents have asked that donations be made to a friend whose child is in need of a kidney transplant.

So much has been given to their family, they want to pay it forward.

"Instead of seeing the ugly hearts of people, I get to see the best hearts of people all the time," Nicole says. "And it shows me continually that most people are good. We get this perception that most people aren't, but what I'm seeing is so amazing to me."

Nicole and Christian McDonald with 3-year-old son Aza and the twins before surgery.

In no way has their journey been easy. Nicole, 31, and Christian, 37, moved with the twins and their 3-year-old son, Aza, from their Illinois town of 5,000 to the Bronx to be near the Children's Hospital at Montefiore Medical Center.

They quit their jobs and gave all their attention to their children. Seemingly every second of every day has been spent thinking about the twins, first before the surgery and then after.

"When we do something, we're going to do it fully and with our whole heart and to the best of our ability," Nicole says. "And if that means sacrificing self for as long as we need to give our children the chance they need to thrive in life, then it's the best thing I've ever given up myself for."

Adds Christian, "We've really served our boys a lot and basically put our lives on hold for our boys and put them first."

There have been many firsts since the 27-hour surgery ended on October 14: the first time the twins slept in separate beds. The first time they saw each other face to face. The first time they were held.

Holding each child separately was surreal and beautiful for Nicole. Jadon was the first one she held. "He just got quiet, and I just rocked him, and it was great. Great isn't even the right word. I don't know a word," she says.

Anias was different. He was crying and fussy one night about 6 p.m. when she first held him, putting him on her shoulder. When that did little to calm him, she moved him into the crook of her arm.

"He stopped crying instantly, and he looked up at me with those two huge brown eyes and just watched my face. I rocked him back and forth. I could feel his whole body just loosen."

When they were conjoined, the twins were confined to a single bed. When one child needed to be consoled, Nicole found it hard to give him her full attention. Her eyes would shift back and forth, and she could never focus on one baby.

She thought of that as Anias -- who has struggled more than Jadon since the surgery -- fell asleep in her arms. "I was singing to him, and I was able to just focus on his face, and his eyes would flutter, close and then pop open to make sure I was still there.

"He was just as amazed with me as I was with him."

Yet between the moments of firsts have been moments of anguish. The boys have battled infections, fevers and seizures.

Infections near Anias' brain forced doctors to remove the skull cap they had fashioned out of the boys' conjoined skull. His scalp is now the only thing covering the top of his head. He will eventually undergo more surgery to have a new skull cap inserted, but that is years down the road. Until then, he will wear a protective helmet.

The parents try to focus on the positive. Both boys are progressing faster than any other craniopagus twins who've undergone surgery. Both are beginning to show signs of their old selves: Jadon, the rambunctious one, and Anias, the contemplative one.

Mom spends almost all her time in their room. Dad tends to 3-year-old Aza, does the laundry, fetches groceries and makes sure the bills get paid.

As if worrying about the twins wasn't enough, Aza recently got hand, foot and mouth disease. That forced his parents to be away from the twins for five days to make sure Jadon and Anias didn't get sick.

Nicole, Christian and Aza went to Boston, to visit a city they had never been to before. Nicole is actually thankful Aza got sick: "It gave me time with him for a change."

Join the conversation See the latest news and share your comments with CNN Health on Facebook and Twitter.

On Thursday, at the family's temporary Bronx home, Nicole will prepare a donated turkey and other traditional Thanksgiving favorites. Her grandparents will join them for the feast.

They won't dwell on their worries. They'll emphasize their gratitude.

"When you're in huge rough patches of life, you can either focus on the tough, or you can find the things to be grateful for," Nicole says. "And in doing so, we're able to get through it in a positive way."

Their wish this day is that America will do the same.