I’m the author of this story here.

Just before Christmas, our pharmacist comes by to drop off some meds for my husband, roommate, and me.

Pharmacist: “Do you remember the woman from Thanksgiving that paid for [Husband]’s meds?”

Me: “Of course we do! How could we forget?”

Despite the fact that the pharmacist is wearing a mask, we can tell that he is smiling.

Pharmacist: “Well, she called us up again and asked about you and how you were doing, and then she told us to leave you a Christmas gift for her.”

We’re all wondering what else she could have possibly done.

Pharmacist: “She’s given you a credit at the pharmacy to help pay for your meds.”

Awesome, right?! We’re thinking she paid for this round of meds that the pharmacist is dropping off.

Pharmacist: “[My Name], guess how much she left you guys.”

Me: “I have no idea. These meds?”

He looks me dead in the eye.

Pharmacist: “[My Name], she left you guys $500.”

My jaw dropped. I’m not too proud to say that I ugly cried; we all did. That was by far the best Christmas present I’ve gotten in years. [Kind Woman], wherever you are, my husband I appreciate you. Thank you so much.

Related:
Kindness Isn’t The Best Medicine But It Can Help You Buy It

This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for January 2021!

Read the next Feel Good roundup for January 2021 story!

Read the Feel Good roundup for January 2021!

It’s Christmastime in the early 2000s and we’re very busy trying to help everyone find their gifts.

Me: “Hello, ma’am, is there anything I can help you find?”

Customer: “I’ve been to over a dozen bookstores and I can’t find this book for my daughter.”

Me: “We’ll see what we can do. What’s it called?”

Customer: “It’s the Facebook.”

Me: “I’m not familiar with that one. Is it a makeup tutorial or something like that?”

Customer: “I don’t know. She just never stops talking about it and I want to surprise her. I think it has something to do with the Internet.”

Then, it clicked for me that she was talking about the website “Facebook,” and I did my best to explain it to her. She was very embarrassed but she appreciated my honesty. To this day, I don’t understand how so many other stores let her go on trying to find “the Facebook.”

My partner and I are dropping off Christmas gifts for family members in advance as we won’t be getting together this year. The provincial government has been slow and erratic in implementing safety measures, and they have just announced that people living alone can get together with others for one holiday gathering.

We’re chatting with my sister-in-law outside her house — masked, distanced, etc. She lives with her almost-eighteen-year-old son and an older daughter who recently moved back home with her young child. Her eldest daughter lives nearby with her partner and three kids.

Sister-In-Law: “It’s great with the new rules! Minors don’t count, so since I’m a single mom and [Eldest Daughter] is practically a single mom, we can have Christmas dinner together!”

Me: “Oh, no. Should I not have addressed our gift to [Eldest Daughter’s Partner]?”

Sister-In-Law: “No, they’re still together!”

I was too shocked to respond. “Practically” doesn’t count, no matter how much her partner works, and she still has another adult living with her. This is why case counts are still so high: wishy-washy rules and people looking for loopholes in them!

I make the mistake of not putting my new underwear in a lingerie bag when I wash them in the washing machine. I should’ve washed them by hand, in hindsight. One thong gets caught in the agitator and some socks and other panties get tangled up into a bundle. It takes ten frustrating minutes to untangle the whole thing.

When I come upstairs, I am cursing the washing machine and my own stupidity.

Me: “Stupid f****** machine!”

Husband: “What’s wrong, hon?”

I explain what happened. He kind of chuckles. 

Me: “What?”

Husband: “So, basically, you’ve got your panties in a bunch?”

I’m still giggling at that two days later. He knows how to cheer me up.

I love reminding my twenty-two-year-old daughter of this story. Several years ago, when my oldest children were six and four, my husband — their step-dad — dressed up as Santa and came to my parents’ house where we were visiting on Christmas Eve. He did the whole bit, dropped off presents, and headed out the door with a “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!”

After he left, I had the following conversation with my little girl, who was four.

Daughter: “I know that wasn’t Santa. That was [Step-Dad].”

Me: “What makes you think that?”

Daughter: “Santa isn’t that tall.”

My husband is 6’2”.

Me: “Okay, you’re right. That was [Step-Dad]. Santa asked him to help out tonight because he’s really busy and running behind.”

Daughter: *In shock and awe* “[Step-Dad] knows Santa?!”