Witnessed?

My boss at a car dealership where I worked very briefly while I was in school.

He had a staff meeting / awards dinner for all of the service staff.

We joked and laughed; as it was just before Christmas, the shop had been slow so we were all very at ease.

The young man who served us that evening was amazing to say the least.

Our boss handed out Christmas bonuses that night. I won’t say exact numbers, but my bonus was well into the low 4 figures — a lot of money for a 16-year-old kid who didn’t do much but move cars around and was the mechanic’s gopher.

Upon receiving the bill for the 8 of us, our boss paid it with credit stating to us that he had paid the bill; it would be up to us to tip.

I don’t know why I started it but I opened my wallet and tossed a $100 bill. As I was only 16 and low man on the pole, the mechanics and lube bay guys didn’t want to be out done. Each of the three lube guys tossed in $200 each and the four mechanics gave $500 each.

The total tip on the table was 2700 dollars. At first the young man who served us all refused to take it. The common response was it’s Christmas and you deserve a bonus, too.

At that point a manager came over to make sure we were not all pie eyed and we were serious about this tip.

Without our knowledge, we found out from the manager afterwards just as we were leaving the young man who served us was a young father who had been out of work and only had worked at this restaurant for a couple of days.

I took my girlfriend to the restaurant for a date between Christmas and New Year’s and sure as hell we had the same waiter. Dinner that night was amazing and I would have to say the service was good. I called for the bill after the dessert had been brought; it came with a picture of a little girl being held by her 22-year-old mom surrounded by presents. Written under the picture was the little girl's name, the year, and a thank-you from her parents.

This happened almost thirty years ago for me and I can remember it like it was yesterday.

EDIT: thanks to everyone who has upvoted this, it truly shows one kind act can change the way thousands see one act.

An interesting side note on this story my daughter who is now 21 began dating a young man about a year ago, a month ago the kids got the parents together as the young man asked to marry my daughter. He is 26 and his Father was a waiter at one point long ago. It will always amaze me how God puts His finger on everything in our lives.

I will share with you one of the most moving acts of compassion I’ve witnessed.

When my youngest son, Luke, was 10 years old, he played football on a local rec-league team. One evening his team played against one of the big rival teams from a neighboring town. I was surprised at how many people were at this game. After all, these were young children playing.

At a crucial time in the game, my son got the football and was running for a touchdown. He zigged and zagged, dodging and evading players on the opposing team. His teammates did a remarkable job blocking, as well. Finally, there was only one opponent between my son and a touchdown, and one of Luke’s teammates (Mario) made a hard block, knocking the opposing player to the ground.

There was now nothing between the goal and my son, who ran all out, then, slowed, stopped, turned around, ran back to the boy writhing on the ground, and took a knee.

The crowd went wild. Spectators on my son’s team hurled horrific insults at my young son. People I had known for years said the most hateful things, glaring at my son, threatening him, shooting daggers at me.

I ran down onto the field to be with Luke. As I ran down the bleachers, people said hateful things to me about my son.

When I arrived at Lukes’ side, before I could ask if he was okay, Luke looked up at me and said, “Dad, I had to do it. I had to come back.”

“Okay,” I said.

Luke continued, “Mario hit that kid hard. Real hard. When he hit him, I heard a bone snap. I heard it! I knew he was hurt bad, and I knew if I scored, it would take more time for anyone to notice him, and he would be hurting in all that time.”

I nodded my head. I could barely see at this point, my eyes welling with tears, proud of my son.

Luke continued, “And I remembered that you always teach us that being a good sport is about more than winning, so I stopped and came back.”

He looked at me, his eyes wondering how I would react. I had never been prouder of him. I hugged him and told him how proud I was.

Luke was correct — the boy suffered a broken leg. He had to go to hospital.

This is one of the finest acts of compassion I ever witnessed. And a valuable lesson for me.

I remember the time when I was 8 and my dad came back from shopping bringing back home three trays of cupcakes.

Me and my siblings were so happy and are mouths started to salivate because the cupcakes were looking so delicious and we were craving for something sweet. We were not able to resist so I got up to grab one but my father stopped me. And this is the conversation that happened between us.

Father: These are not for you guys.

Me: Then who are they for?

Father: I didn’t even buy these cupcakes These cupcakes belong to someone else.

Me: Who?

Father: I found these cupcakes in a cart when going to my car. I opened the bag and found a recit with the cupcakes. And thankfully I found the phone number of the person who owned these. So I decided to bring them home and call the person.

Me: Oh. So are we going to give all of them away?

Father: Yes because these are not yours and they belong to someone. What if that person is in need of these cupcakes, what if they have some party that they need take to these cupcakes to. It is our job to return them to the person it belongs to and be honest about it.

Me: Okay.

I was not sure of what my father meant by “in need.” But instead of arguing, I obeyed my father because that was the best thing I could do in that moment.

My dad dialed the phone number he found and after dialing the phone three times, a guy picked up the phone. My dad explained to the guy how he found three trays of cupcakes and that he believed they belonged to him. The guy was so joyful and this is what he said:

“Oh my God sir. Thank you so much. I have been looking for them everywhere thinking where I misplaced them. I was about to go to the store and buy new ones just because I needed these cupcakes for my daughter’s birthday party. Thank you once again for this act of kindness. I will call you when I reach your house.”

My father then put the phone down and smiled widely. He was at peace to know who owned these cupcakes.

After a while the guy came and he took the cupcakes.

My father came home and he told us what happened:

“I gave him the cupcakes and he was very thankful. He offered me money but I didn’t take any because my job as a human was to be honest and truthful and I did not do that out of any greed. But when I declined his offer, he offered me a tray of cupcakes. I rejected him but he forced me to have it and left.”

So it happened to be that the guy repaid my father's good deed and honesty with a tray of cupcakes. My father called me over and handed me a cupcake but while doing so, he said:

“You see you got what you wanted. But do you know why you got these cupcakes? Because you were honest to me and to the guy. You didn’t touch the cupcakes after I told you the story and you were patient. When in deed you find something do not mistakenly think that it belongs to you. It belongs to someone else and it is our job as a good human being to return it to that person and if you can’t contact that person then give it to someone else in need, like someone on the street. But never keep it to yourself because you have everything you need and to take something in greed is not a good deed. A good human being is always honest, truthful, and not greedy. Your act of kindness whether big or small will be repaid by God in some way but you have to be patient. And our act of kindness was repaid through a tray of cupcakes.”

My father giggled, hugged me, and kissed me on the forehead. I was not happy to have a cupcake but happy to know that I was the daughter of a great man. I then realized that if you are kind to others then they will be kind to you and if they are not kind to you then God will repay your kindness in some way. I still take this advice in consideration and I advise that everyone should.

This was the simple act of kindness my father did.

Thank you for reading! :)

I was standing in line to pay for a ticket to the PNE, Vancouver’s Pacific National Exibition which is held in the summer and it has fun rides in its amusement park, farm exhibits which showcase all sort of animals, mostly for agriculture and livestock and lots of other fun exhibits.

Just ahead of me there was some little kid with his older sister and brother and his dad and mom and he came up to the entrance booth with a voucher that allowed a family, regardless of size, to use for admission to enter the PNE. I overheard the conversation and the voucher was issued by the Canadian Forces so the dad or mom (or maybe both) were either active soldiers enlisted in the Canadian Forces or recently retired veterans.

Right behind them and in front of me there was a mom with two kids and an elderly man who I assumed was the ‘grandpa’ and she was talking to her kids about ‘hoping they had enough $$ to pay for everyone to enter’.

When she was close to the counter she looked at the prices listed on the board in front of the admission gate and told her kids that they’d have to make other plans because she didn’t have enough money to take them all in. Even little kids had amission prices unlike some places that allow kids under six to enter for free.

When daughter started to cry the little boy with the military family turned and said, ‘hey dad, why don’t they come with us?’ His dad, said something along with lines of ‘are you sure, we don’t know them’ to which the boy answered, “we’ll never get to know them if we don’t bring them with us”.

The parents turned and talked to the mom and her elderly father and kids and invited them to come with them since their voucher issued by the Canadian Forces family services didn’t indicate as to the number of family members indicated on the voucher, which also gave them ‘all access’ so that they could enjoy the rides and other venues that would cost additional money to visit. So, even if the Brady Bunch and the Walton Family combined had been given the voucher it would include them all.

The mother was almost in tears and she consoled her daughter to stop crying while her little boy cheered and they all went in as one family.

I was so moved by that so I paid the admisstion of the three people, a dad and his wife and small child, who stood behind me in addition to myself and said, ‘Pay it forward please’ to him and I’m not sure if he did but I read a week later in the newspaper that a ‘pay it forward’ chain was started by some ‘anonymous people’ at the PNE and each person in line either paid for the admission for the person behind them or simply paid for someone who didn’t have enough money and over 200 people came in and kept the chain going for over four hours until someone stopped it for whatever reason.

So, I thought that was so sweet that the little boy from his military family could be so kind, and I’m sure that they got to know the family standing behind them and maybe they remained good friends after, you never know.

My tendons in my jump joints are pretty bad. They are often torn so I often walk on crutches.

The day this happened i was of course again walking on crutches. Waiting at a stop for the green light to cross. The bus station was just across the street.
The bus arrived, but the light stayed red. I got visibly nervous and anxious.

The moment the light turned green, the woman standing next to me ran to the bus and held the door open for me.
I thanked her profoundly. She answered with a smile and turned away from the door and walked into the shop behind the bus station.

Just then did I realise, this woman ran to the bus for me. Not because she needed to catch the bus too, but because she saw me getting anxious.

I was just amazed, I still am, at the kindness this woman showed me.

I cannot remember her face, but I can remember her braids. Her hair was amazing! Really cool woman!

I was 19 years old, travelling from Montreal to Philadelphia by bus. I had to change buses in New York. I noticed a man with a sign hanging from his neck, saying he was deaf, mute and blind. Later while I was in line waiting for my next bus I noticed the same man stationed by the bus he was supposed to take. Someone had placed the man’s hand on the front of the bus. Unfortunately the bus had been filled, and would be replaced by another going the same way. So the first bus started backing away. The deaf blind man didn’t understand what was happening and was very upset to feel his bus leaving. He groaned and tried to follow it and an agent shoved him out of the way telling, “Hey! You’'ll get yourself killed!”. The man was moaning and weeping pitifully. It was heartbreaking. Then a man dashed out of my line, ran up to the man and took his hand. With his fingers he began to make signs in the palm of the man’s hand, explaining that a replacement bus was coming in. I will never forget the look of relief and peace that came over that man’s face. If I remember right I think we must have applauded.

Edit: Wow! I’ve never had more than a couple of dozen upvotes. Hadn’t expected this many.

It happened today.

To me.

Backstory: As you will be tired of hearing, I was engaged to a wonderful, beautiful incredible loving, amazing fantastically annoying TWAT that I absolutely adored and worshipped the ground he walked on. We got engaged on my 16th birthday, and planned to get married on his 24th. He died the day before his 23rd birthday.

On my 16th birthday, he presented me with a copy of the album Waking Up The Neighbours by Bryan Adams, and whilst the song Straight From the Heart was playing he fastened a necklace around my neck, it had a silver heart on it. Just a plain, solid heart. It meant the world.

When I was 26, I lost the heart, I was devastated as all I had left of him was the heart and his engagement ring.

Last week I received a message from my friends Pal, Zach, Liz, Colin, Stefan, Andreas and Kaszpar saying “Look out for the postie, good things happen to good people.”

Today, when I returned from a hard day at work, I found a package waiting for me. Inside the package, was this.

Yep, my friends from work bought me a replacement heart

It was a week or so before Christmas 2017, my son (8 at the time) and I were out shopping for a few things. We came across a little chafity tombola and he had a play and won a couple of prizes. One was a little teddy and the other was a wrapped gift that was quite obviously a box of malteasers. My son was happy because malteasers are one of his favourite chocolates. We continued on our errands and came across a local homeless guy whom we buy things for when I have the spare money - water, treats, sandwiches ect. Without a second thought my son dug into the shopping bag and pulled out the wrapped gift of chocolates and gave it to the man, who was so grateful. We went into the shop and I said “That was so thoughtful of you.” My son replied “Well I wanted to give him a gift for Christmas. It might be the only present he gets.” That right there makes me know I’m doing things right with my son.

I was on a working holiday in Germany. My sister had joined me for several weeks. We had made a spontaneous last minute decision to travel from the North (Berlin) to the South, to a township outside Rothenburg.

By the time we reached Rothenburg (if I remember correctly, it was no earlier than 9pm) all trains terminated. None continued on to where we were going. We were stranded at the railway station.

Being a university city it was still relatively busy in the evening. We decided to get off the platform and used a type of escalator to transport our very heavy luggage bag to the ground level. (I am trying to recall the exact details as I write this. This story dates back to mid 2003).

A stoutish, elderly man approached us. He must have noticed our look of disarray. We explained our dilemma. He offered to drive us to the rural township. (We had begun to consider staying in a hotel by this stage). I know this sounds extremely reckless but we accepted. He just seemed to radiate trustworthiness. (While talking to me he had lowered his gaze).

He led us to his small car and took us on a very relaxed trip to our destination pointing out historical and other points of interest along the way. During the trip (I was sitting in the front passenger seat, my sister was seated in the back) he turned to me and said in German (my native tongue is English but I understand German), “I am an angel from Heaven.” And then he asked me if I understood. I said “yes”, trying to comprehend what he was saying and then he repeated it, “I am an angel from Heaven.” Even my sister who only knows a word here and there understood what he was saying.

We arrived at our host’s home (a retreat house) safe and sound, around midnight. The sisters at the door were not impressed to say the least. We were impunctual and inconsiderate foreigners! But our aide shook their hands, smiled and tried to smooth out an uncomfortable situation before departing.

My sister said to me later, “Did you notice his headlights were on already when we got to his car at the station?”

And we both wondered that if he was at the station to pick up a traveller they were definitely bypassed for us!

But we both knew that God had been looking out for us that night! (This is a story I have never disclosed to anyone except my immediate family. I know it sounds odd but nothing has been falsified and I have never taken any drugs in my life).

Safe travelling.

I watched a courageous man in Syria after the dictator Assad launch a barrel bomb attack on a school, run into the devastation with bullets flying within inches of him, pick up a child no more than six years old and lay on top of her as another bomb dropped, he picked her up and ran as fast as he could, at some point the child stopped breathing, he began CPR in the midst of further shelling, you could see the bullets striking the concrete next to him and each time he shielded this little girl, Assad cronies never let up, he got her breathing and was screaming for help, no-one came. Another bomb landed close by, again he sheltered the child, he was still screaming…still no-one came. As he picked her up to run for cover a bullet ripped through his shoulder, the child fell, he got up and carried her again, all the while sheilding her from shrapnel and bullets, he finally reached the relative safety of a partially destroyed apartment block where there was a makeshift hospital, as he delivered her into the arms of safety he was shot again, this time he had no chance. Killed instantly. This is an ordinary man, a shopkeeper, who despite the terror had only one objective, and he achieved it, it cost him his life but deep in my heart i realise how capable we are of courage in the face of adversity. This man died saving the life of a fellow human being. He died for the love of humanity. The little girl…i don't know what happened to her…but there's a lesson to be learned here. I hope you get the message.

I was coming out of the grocery store to my car when I noticed a woman coming out at the same time. She was an elderly white woman walking very, very slowly. A 30 something black lady and her daughter were coming out at the same time and started talking to the older woman. The woman and her daughter took the time out to walk (very slowly) to her car and put her groceries in her car. I smiled at her and put my groceries in my car. The woman and daughter took their groceries to their car and then I saw the woman stop cold. She was looking at the older woman and went back to the older woman and helped her put her walker in the car and help the older lady into her car. I bet she spent 20 minutes helping that woman. But then again, I live in the south and I think people are nicer.

I live in Trinidad and here we have many vagrants or what some people call, homeless, hobos, street people etc., now everytime I go to my local drugstore, there is a vagrant who is riddled with arthritis, his hands, feet and back are all twisted and he lives in a lot of pain, when he sees me, he always ask for medication, namely pain killers, which I would buy for him, which is sold over the counter, plus something to eat and drink. One Christmas, I decided to invite him to my home on Christmas day, my husband and I picked him up at his home, (it was basically a shack he was living in) and took him to our home. My three children ages 12, 10 and 8 years old all sat at the table to eat, we said grace and had a lovely meal, after the meal, the kids took him to the Christmas tree and gave him his presents, poor fella, he started to cry, he said no one had ever done this for him ever, gosh, I started to cry also at how emotional he was, then he turned and said to my husband and myself that he has a neighbor who lives in a shack next to his but he is so bed ridden with arthritis, just like himself, that whenever we give him the painkillers he needs, he shares it with his neighbor, we were speechless at how caring and giving he was, here is this man who has nothing but when he gets, he shares it with others, his story will always be my favorite act of kindness that I will remember for the rest of my life.

Just off the top of my head…

I was living in Istanbul at the time and I regularly take the minibüs to and fro work. (The minibüses are usually jam-packed, by the way!)

Anyway, I was standing next to the door and had to get out of the bus every time passengers need to get off… as I was making my way down the steps, a loud “bang” was heard, shook the minibüs and it literally threw me off the steps… I landed on my butt right beside the minibüs, confused.

More background info: The neighborhood that I lived in had issues with terrorism way back when and lots of people still kept an eye out for anything suspicious or dangerous, especially in very crowded areas or certain time of day.

Anyway, a man in his 50s immediately rushed down the steps, picked me up and dragged me back into the bus with everyone else. Everyone was in complete shock and nobody left the bus.

It turned out that a taxi lost control and ramped into the back of us. No body was hurt but the hood of the taxi was destroyed since part of it went under the minibüs.

Even though it wasn't a life-threatening situation, I am still very grateful for the man's kindness.

I hope this story had made someone's day. Made my day again just thinking about it so thank you for this heartwarming question! 🥰🥰🥰

I grew up in much simpler times. We were running and playing on the streets and we could stay out late without any supervision from grown-ups. I developed a few grams of exploratory spirit and acquired multiple scars on my knees and arms from those days.

However, around my junior high school the whole “stranger-danger” trend started picking on. An incident here and there were enough to create an outrageous contagion effect among parents. We were told to not talk to anyone and to run away screaming from people trying to approach us with candy or any other kind of treats. We were getting quarantined for own safety.

My father was driving me and my sisters to the school everyday. We were living in the outskirts of my hometown and it was a good 10–12-kilometers ride, of which the first 3–4 kilometers were through a small hill by the seaside. I made it sound as a pleasant drive by the beach, but it was nothing like that. Imagine it a little bit more like a winding road, 5–10 meters from sea level with not pavements, bad lighting and stray dogs infesting the area. For someone driving the car was a very bad road. For someone walking on it, it could have been nightmare-ish to clear the whole distance.

You have got to love this this winter weather.

One winter rainy morning, as we were passing through that road, we noticed a dark figure walking by the side of the road. My father, exercising his lighting speed reflects, immediately stops and asks the person through the window:

My father: Hello, where are you heading?

Stranger: Hello, young man. Just heading towards the bus stop to take the bus to the town.

My father: I driving my children to their school. We can help you to the city center if that helps.

The stranger’s smile lit up and her eyes grew wide. She opened the door and we continued our drive.

For the first time, I could see her facial characteristics. It was a very wrinkly and old-looking grandma who was wearing multiple layers of clothes and scarfs (but no umbrella) to keep herself warm -as much as she could- in order to go to the town to cash out her pension and to buy some groceries. Her children could not drive her to the town these days so she had to take the initiative to walk through that awful part of the road and to wait a good 30–40 minutes for the bus.

I was very baffled by my fathers behavior. He took no precautions. He did not check the persons credentials and he just left her in our car.

A few minutes later he left her, literally, meters away from the bank she was intending to go. She thanked us at least 15 times and she left with an even greater smile in her face and a very energetic pace.

My father did not do it for parenting reasons. He did not do it because he knew the person. He did not do it to serve any kind of superiority syndrome or to get something in exchange.

He was just humane and he helped another human who was going to have a really crappy day.

I still remember how I greeted him when we reached my school 10 minutes later.

Little Thanos: Hey dad. See you in the evening.

My father: Bye. Have a good one son.

Little Thanos: And… dad?

My father: Yes?

Little Thanos: You are much cooler that I though you were.

Image credit pixabay

Recently, I was in a fast food restaurant. In line in front of me was an elderly gentleman in a wheel chair and his son. The elderly man was wearing a cap that identified him as a Vietnam Veteran. He had no legs below his knees. I motioned to the cashier that I would like to pay for their meal. I didn’t really want them to know. The son placed their order and started to pay. The clerk smiled sweetly and said “I’ve got it.”. The man looked confused and held the money out to the clerk. Again, she smiled and said “It’s covered.”. The man stood there staring at her. She smiled and said “The lady behind you blessed you today.”. He turned and thanked me. I just smiled and told him he was welcome. His father, in the wheelchair, turned to me and said “I really appreciate that.” I said “Not nearly as much as I appreciate your sacrifice.” and motioned to his legs. BIG tears came up in his eyes and he reached out to hug me. THAT was the best payment in the world to me. We visited for a few minutes until their order arrived and they went on their way.

I turned to leave, and this lady next to me tapped me on the arm and handed me a small amount of money. She smiled ever so sweetly and said “I saw what you did. Please let me help.” before hugging me.

The sweetest turn of events I’ve ever had!

When I was six years old, my widowed mother and I lived with my grandmother in the working class district of a city in Eastern Canada. We lived on a low income. Nothing was wasted. One summer my mother got the name of a ‘needy’ family, and started to save a little money each week to give them something for Christmas. I knew nothing about this. On Christmas Eve my precious mother started to organize the ‘gift’ on the kitchen table. First came a box of toys and candy. She carefully wrapped the toys with a note from Santa Claus. Next, two stockings were filled with the candy, colouring books and crayons, an orange, an apple and a teddy bear.

A large box was filled with a cooked turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce, a bag of potatoes and carrots, a can of peas, fruitcake and cookies. A gift for the mother, and the two stockings were placed on top of the box.

As I wondered where the toys and candy were going, my mother told me to get ready because we were going out. Out on Christmas Eve? Where? And it was a stormy night!

My mother called a taxi. A taxi? What was going on? We NEVER took a taxi. When the yellow car stopped outside of our house, we waded through deep snow in the howling wind, and got in the taxi.

The driver started the car and slowly made his way through the storm. We lived in the south end of the city. The financial status of the neighbourhood lowered the farther south you went.

Down, down, down we drove until we pulled up to a very shabby looking hovel. I was scared. The taxi driver agreed to wait for us. As we stood at the door, my mother looked down at me and said “I want you to remember this Gail. This is Christmas”. I am crying as I write this.

After taking a deep breath, my mother knocked on the door.

A pale young woman answered the door, while a toddler wearing only a diaper peeked at us from behind her. She was balancing a second child on her hip. The room behind her was desolate. No comfortable furniture. No Christmas tree. A dirt floor.

My mother put the Christmas box inside and said “Merry Christmas, this is for you.” The young mother said “How did you know?” My dear mother gave her a hug, and said “You deserve it”.

Not a word was spoken until we got home. I have had an appreciation for all of the good things in my life since that night.

So, I was back then in my hometown; Yangon, Myanmar. It was my last day because I would start my oversea studies the following day. So, my schedule was crammed and pretty tiring.

I was coming back home from the hanging out, farewell dinner with mates, visiting an office to collect documents and all. It was a long day and I was pretty tired. Plus, I had more plans to play badminton with my other mates for the last time. :))

I decided to take a bus. I walked up to the nearest bus station. There was just a happy-go-lucky looking old man and a few more people. I smiled at them. Buses in my country don't have the card system so I was searching for some changes. But I only found big notes and that got me slightly frustrated. (The fare was just 300 kyats ~ 0.14 usd)

The old man seemed to notice my distress. He approached me and handed me the exact bus fare to me. He was offering me the fare. I tried to refuse. I simply knew he was not very well-to-do and I decided to walk those 3 stops.

But he insisted I take it. I will never forget the words he said or the kindness in his eyes while he said them. “Just take it. We Myanmar people need to look after each other.”

I was deeply touched. I accepted the fare. And thanked him wholeheartedly. The bus arrived. I took one last glance of him from my seat's window.

I felt gratitude and shame at the same time. I felt ashamed because I had more than enough money for this bus ride. And I was leaving the country for a better life literally the next day. I was affirmed people's appearances or status DO NOT define or limit their kindness. I would never meet this kind stranger again, that's for sure. But, on that day, I felt warm inside and I can still recall and feel this warmness when I'm now striving alone in Singapore.

Walking to the bus stop on the other side

My car is stalled in a Wendy’s drive-thru. At lunchtime.

A line is piling up behind me. Cars are honking, people are cursing, some guy screams out his window at me so I scream back because I don’t know what to do and for fuck’s sake I don’t even know how to turn my hazards on.

So I’m crying, I’ve got snot wiped clear down my sleeve, I’m blubbering on the phone to my mom asking her to, I don’t know, fix it.

That’s what moms do, I’m thinking. They fix it.

Of course, Mom can’t just “fix” my car from twenty miles away so she says she’ll call a tow truck.

And he’ll be there.

In an hour.

I keep turning the key frantically hoping that ol’ Clif will start right back up and we’ll be on our way with a #1 combo when some lady knocks on my window.

Still sniffling, I roll it down.

“Did you run out of gas?” She smiles.

“I… it just stopped,” I blurt out.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she says. “I’m going to move my van out of that parking spot, then we’ll put your car in neutral and push it there so it’s out of the way. How does that sound?”

I thank her profusely.

She bustles off to her car and gets it moving.

While I wait I see a truck angrily whip out of the line behind me and into a parking space.

A guy jumps out.

I’m prepared to get an earful about how terrible I’m being for holding up this line when he comes to my window.

“Is your car in neutral?”

I stare at him for a second confused before shifting it.

“Great,” he says. “You steer, we’ll push.”

The woman returns with her daughter and together they maneuver my car into the parking space.

I pop my car in park and before I can thank the man he’s back in his truck —

Gone.

The woman runs back to her car too and I almost jump out to catch her when I see her walking back.

“Here’s my business card,” she says. “I work just down the street. If you need anything, give me a call.”

She reaches through the window and hugs me.

“I’m a mom. I get it.”

And like that, she too is gone.

I’d love to give those people a call and thank them for being my heroes without capes.

But the man left before I knew a thing about him and the woman’s business card was destroyed when I, rather unfortunately, dropped my wallet in the toilet.

All I can hope is that maybe someone will read this answer and upvote it, then someone else will see that upvote and share the answer on Facebook, and one of their Facebook friends will see it and tag someone else, and then through the chain one of those two heroes will click on it and go:

“Hey, I helped a girl at the Wendy’s drive-thru on 8th Ave!”

And they’ll know that I’m still thinking about them a few months later.

It’s a pipe dream.

Maybe the second best thing would be that someone reads this and the next time they see a poor kid sitting in a stalled car crying to their mom—

They’ll take a second to help.

And if you do, know that while you might not get called out by name—

You won’t be forgotten.

My mother had a heart attack and fell down the stairs at her house. EMTs got there in time and took her to the hospital. She lingered for five days before passing away. My husband got to her house hours before I did. He drove from Atlanta to Savannah and I had to travel from Washington D.C. When he got there he saw that no one had cleaned up the considerable about of congealed blood and tissue on the landing. So he did it himself so I wouldn't walk in and find it. That was a kindness on steroids and I will never forget it. Several years later when his mother was dying of cancer, I knew I would do whatever I could for her, if for no other reason, for the incredible act of kindness my husband had done for me.

The random acts of kindness I do tend to be small and silly.

When I'm in a small public bathroom, where there are only 1 or 2 rolls of toilet paper, if a roll is empty I find a replacement, slide the spindle through it and put it where it belongs.

If the area around the sink is drenched, once I've washed and dried my hands I take one more piece of paper towel and dry it.

If people have dropped paper towels on the floor, I use a clean one to pick them up and put them in the waste basket.

This is even sillier: When I'm walking along a building in nice weather and notice that the little flower bed along the wall of a business is being invaded by weeds, I pause, crouch, and yank out as many as I have time and energy for.

I'm elderly and spend most of my time at home, thanks to the pandemic. Making the world a little bit better any way I can makes me happy 😊.

When I was 17… this would have been in 1975, WAY before Random Acts of Kindness or Pay It Forward movements had been dreamed of - I was working as a waitress. A woman came in and recognized me - some years before I had taken horseback riding lessons from her daughter. I had only met this woman briefly, I didn’t really know her, but I was aware that her family had been going through some really bad times - her husband had been arrested for stealing on his job.

Anyway, she asked me what was going on in my life and I told her I’d be leaving for college in a few days. She congratulated me, finished her meal, paid and left. A few minutes later she came back in and handed me an envelope. She had gone to the store next to the restaurant and bought me a card, wishing me luck at college. And she’d put $10 in it. That might not seem like a lot to you, but to someone headed for college (in those days) who would have to count every penny, it made a difference. I was so incredibly touched! And I never forgot her kindness.

Many years later, I as part of my job I frequented a local pharmacy and I got to know the pharmacist and his young assistant. One day the girl told me she’d be leaving to go to school to learn to be a pharmacist the next week. So I bought her a card and put $20 in it. I told her the story above and asked her to Pay It Forward someday. She seemed quite touched.

I’ve tried to do Random Acts of Kindness whenever I could. One Christmas I paid off someone’s layaway bill. If I hear someone in a store saying that they’d love to have something but it was $5 too much, I’ll hand them $5. A couple of times when someone at the checkout didn’t have enough money to pay for their purchases, I’ve paid the balance. I stop my car if I see a child or older person having trouble crossing a road, and get out to help. I’ve rescued countless animals, wild and pets, including a goat, a cow, several horses, 2 baby raccoons, a seagull and many cats and dogs - and more. Twice when I’ve heard of someone with a pet that needed surgery but they couldn’t afford it, I’ve paid the vet bill, even though I don’t really know those people. I’m SO fortunate that I am financially well-off enough to do this and I really believe in giving back.

I LOVE finding opportunities to do Random Acts of Kindness!

I am a retired American pediatrician.

My wife and I were on a plane a few months ago on a short flight from Rome to Brindisi in the southern part of Italy. As we were starting to take off, I heard a child crying a few rows behind us, but it was very different than a baby’s cry. It reminded me when I have experienced autistic children screaming, usually from fear. I could easily see that he was Asian and the parents were not, so I presumed that he was an adopted child.

When I heard that little boy’s scream, my heart felt the parents' anguish since it was obvious they were completely beside themselves. Even though we were only a few minutes in the air and the flights attendants had not even given the OK to move around, I stood up and went over to their seats. In my basic Italian, I told them that I was a pediatrician and that I would be happy to help them if they would let me. I picked him up and the boy immediately took my hand, looked at me as I was hugging him tightly, and stopped crying within about 30 seconds! I rocked him for a while and then returned with him to where my wife was sitting. He then sat with her while I talked to the parents. He took to her nicely as well and remained calm while she showed him pictures on her phone.

Although the flight was only about 50 minutes, it seemed like hours! I sat with the parents and within 15 minutes with the help of Google Translate, I had taken a complete history! They had adopted him two weeks before in China and had spent every day with him since. They were in the process of flying back to their home in the same town in southern Italy where we were going. After almost 24 hours, they were totally exhausted. The father showed me scratches from where their son had dug his nails, probably in frustration. He was probably feeling totally out of his normal environment, with everyone looking different and speaking a foreign language.

I tried to imagine what the little boy was thinking! He must have been overtired, scared and overstimulated.

While we were waiting for our luggage, the parents offered to take us on a tour around their city of Lecce. I was looking forward to seeing them again so that I’d be able to tell if their child was adjusting to his new surroundings. Right before they were supposed to pick us up, the father sent a text saying that their son was asleep. I agreed that it was better that they shouldn’t wake him up. We never wound up seeing them, but they did communicate that he was slowly getting used to his new surroundings in Italy.

In retrospect, I wonder what impulse made me decide to jump out of my seat to help this child and his family. As a pediatrician, I recognized the sound of a child in distress. More likely, however, was that as an adoptive father myself, I imagined how desperate the parents must have felt.

I’m not sure why my intervention worked, but I certainly would do it again if the situation presented itself.

Not very impressive since I didn't actually do it, but:

When I was in my early 20’s, I was out nightclubbing with some friends. A lady who I’d never met came up to me and started chatting. She was very chatty and friendly and was quite a bit older than me, she told me she was married, she had her husband in tow, he was just sitting around watching the music on the screens not far away

I'm not sure how we got onto the subject, maybe I’d had a couple of drinks, but this lady started telling me that she was unable to have children, that she had a medical condition preventing her from ever being able to have kids.

She seemed like such a lovely woman and it seemed so sad that she wouldn't have the opportunity to have her own baby, I said: “I could have one for you”, and in that moment I genuinely wanted to….she gave me a big smile then she looked over at her husband and smiled and he moved closer.

She then started telling me that she could pay me, and what it would involve. It occurred to me that she had put a lot of thought into it. She then told me I'd need to go on strong hormone treatments in preparation and I told her I couldn't do that, I’d had trouble with even trying to take the birth control pill.

She looked bitterly disappointed and immediately stopped talking to me. She and her husband soon moved over to talk to another girl.

I realized that this was the reason they were there, talking to strangers, to find someone to have a baby for them.

I wonder sometimes if they ended up finding someone to have a baby for them.

Ok then , It’s a story time…

I was in office of a very reputed MNC of India for my interview. It was my first interview so obviously I was very nervous and tensed. I was having throat infection and cold, so I was struggling to talk properly. I was very stressed about my performance. There was still plenty of time for the interview. I went to washroom and to my bad I realized that I got periods…

I was already fighting with throat infection and cold and now I started getting period cramps. Pain was not new to me but the timing and place made it unbearable. I didn’t know why everything was happening at the same time. I didn’t had anyone to comfort me. I was crying silently and was missing my mother and my friends so much.

There were other girls who were busy in doing their touch up. I just stood there silently with tears.

One lady noticed me and she approached me. She understood the reason of my tears by herself and tried to comfort me.

She held my face so affectionately, patted my back and asked, “Have you got your periods?”.

I nodded to her.

Then she said, “So why are you crying? Do you need something? Do you need pads or medicines or anything? Should I get you a coffee? Just tell me dear, I will make sure that you get whatever you need but please stop crying.”

“I have pads but what about my interview now? I have prepared from so many days for this day and now everything got wasted ?” I said while wiping my tears.

“Nothing will be wasted and you will do good, just be confident. Come on, wipe your tears and wash your face.”, She said while cheering me up.

I felt so good and light by her words. I became ready for interview and when I was leaving she wished me luck and again asked to approach her if I needed something. I expressed my gratitude and left.

(Btw her words came to be true later I did well in interview and also got that job.)

Her kindness touched my heart and made me believe that some people truly have golden heart. I will always remain indebted to her.

Last week, an older gentleman walks into the laundromat where I work and asks me how much it is to use the machines. I explain the prices of the various appliances and he nods in understanding: he doesn’t have any clothes with him and I figure he is price shopping.

He then starts telling me a story about his granddaughter has a school project and wants to “pay it forward”. I could barely hear him at this point because he had turned away from me and I cannot hear very well if someone isn’t facing me. He turns back to leave and bids me good day.

I was puzzled with the interaction and went back to work. About 15 minutes later he returned, followed by an older woman and a little red headed girl about 8 years old. The lady said her granddaughter chose this laundromat as her school project’s “pay it forward” and wanted to pay for some customers washing. I was so touched. They had 8 envelopes with quarters in them. Each one had $1.50 (the cost of one wash) in them. They taped them on random machines.

Before they were done the shy little girl came up and wished me Merry Christmas and gave me a hug. It was so sweet and the grandfather said she saved up and used her own money for it! What a generous little girl she was. Merry Christmas y’all!