Anchorage, Alaska experienced a 7.0-magnitude earthquake on the morning of November 30th, 2018. There was significant damage to infrastructure, roads, and buildings, but no collapses, and only a few older buildings have been deemed unsafe. No deaths reported! 72 hours after the major destruction of some of our main highways, they are back in commission, paved and striped. All the recovery efforts are simply amazing.

Stories have poured in thanking our amazing engineers and workers of the Alaska Department of Transportation getting our roads safe and fixed, the utility workers for going 24 hours a day to get us back on the grid and get us safe drinking water, and our first responders for a quick and calm emergency response.

But I’d like to take a minute to thank the gas station attendants who stayed at their jobs right after the quake to service the hundreds of panicked people filling up on gas before attempting the four- to five-hour trip home — a normal commute of 30 to 45 minutes — to Eagle River and the Mat-Su Valley. I would like to heartily thank the hundreds of grocery store clerks who stayed that day to keep the stores open, and who put in countless hours to clean up warehouses of glass and spills so that we could go in and get bread, water, and necessities — like deli sandwiches and any wine that survived the shake-up. And I want to thank the baristas who showed up at five am the day after, who held down the shaking syrup bottles through the many, many, many aftershocks and kept smiles on their faces. I just cannot even.

I would like to extend my enormous gratitude to the store clerks at our local True Value Hardware who swept most of the mess into a roped-off corner and opened early the next day because, “People are going to need to fix stuff up, and they need us open, not picture perfect.” At the same store, my husband witnessed a clerk scolding a fellow for trying to buy more than one set of water heater hoses saying, “Do you have multiple water heaters?” The fellow responded by shaking his head. The clerk asked, “Are you helping your neighbors?” The fellow sullenly shook his head in the negative again. The clerk said firmly, “Then I’ll only be selling you the one set; there are going to be a lot of people needing those today.”

To the cheerful diner waitress who kept our coffee topped up the day after this crazy event, to the artisans who forged ahead with a holiday craft show because people needed to have some cheer, to the musicians and actors who said that the show must go on… thank you a thousand times. THANK YOU.

A few months ago, I took my little sister grocery shopping at a place we’d known since our childhood. I was on a tight budget, but I was happy to spend time with her, so we added a few more items than I could really afford. When we got to the register, I realized I was over a few dollars. Removing a few items got me down to where I was only a few cents over budget, and as I paid, I searched for those extra cents that would cover the rest.

Not finding them, I grabbed my card, only to be presented with the receipt and a smile. The cashier had covered it out of her own pocket. Thinking about it now brings a lump to my throat, and thanks to her generous spirit, I recovered my dwindling faith in humanity.

(I am a regular at a local sewing store where I’m also taking classes. One day I drop by to get fabric and decided to bring my dog, since my mum and I have to go there by car, anyway, and my dog is still kind of anxious about driving after a recent bad experience. When I bring her into the shop, this happens.)

Owner: “Oh, I’m sorry; you can’t bring your dog in here. My husband is really allergic to them.”

Me: “Sorry, I didn’t know that.”

Mum: “I’ll just take her out and wait in the car with her.”

Owner: “I’m really sorry. It’s not that I don’t like dogs. I love dogs, and yours looks really cute, but my husband swells up and can’t breathe when he’s near dog hair, and…”

Me: “Really, it’s no problem. She can use the time in the car, anyway.”

(We go on to discuss fabric choices for my project, and she helps me personally, since only one other customer is in the store who is already being helped by one of the employees. When we move closer to them to look at some belt straps, the owner notices that in a bag on the floor is a tiny dog, even smaller than mine.)

Owner: “Excuse me. I didn’t notice it before, but dogs are not allowed in this store. Please leave your dog outside.”

Customer: *in a tone so rude I can’t possibly portray it in writing* “It’s none of your business. He’s in a bag.” *turns back around to the employee*

Owner: “My husband is extremely allergic to dogs, so I have to ask you, again, to please take your dog outside, as I can’t have him in the store.”

Customer: “And where am I supposed to put him? My car? He’d just destroy it. No. I’m keeping him with me, in here.”

(The dog in question is a chihuahua in a closed bag, on a leash that ties him to said bag. He couldn’t possibly get out of there.)

Owner: “I frankly don’t care where you put your dog, as long as he’s not in my store. Please get him out of here now.”

Customer: “No. I won’t. And if you make me, you’ll lose me as a customer.”

Owner: “I don’t want you as a customer if you don’t take your dog outside right now!”

Customer: “I won’t.”

(With that, she turns back to the employee, who obviously doesn’t know how to deal with that and is extremely uncomfortable, but resumes helping the entitled woman with choosing some buttons. The owner is obviously furious but doesn’t know what else to do. I’m furious, too; the tone and general attitude of the customer are so rude, and to such a nice person, that I basically feel ashamed to belong to the same species as that person. After taking a deep breath and contemplating, I decide to step in.)

Me: *in a calm but incredibly icy tone, with my best menacing stare* “Excuse me.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “I just took my dog outside to wait in the car, too. You have been asked repeatedly to remove your dog from this store. It is not okay to endanger the health of a human being just so your dog won’t have to spend ten minutes alone in a car. Do you really believe that the fifteen Euros you’re spending here are more important to [Owner] than her husband’s health? Pull yourself together, get rid of that attitude, and get your dog outside right now.”

Customer: “FINE! I will buy my buttons here, and then I will never come back! You’ve just lost a customer for life!”

Me: “Thank God. I wouldn’t like to encounter the likes of you in here ever again.”

(In this instance, I am the stupid customer. I am at the grocery store till and the clerk has just finished scanning through all my items.)

Clerk: “That will be [price].”

(I reach into my back pocket only to find that my wallet is not there.)

Me: “Oh, my God.”

(I start pulling things out of my coat pocket looking for it, including my checkbook.)

Me: “Oh, my God, I left my wallet at home! Can you hold this?”

Clerk: “What about your checkbook, ma’am?”

Me: “What about it? I used it to pay daycare yester— Oh! Do people still pay for groceries with checks?”

Clerk: “Not often, but yes.”

Me: “Okay, my ID is in my car, though; do you mind holding this here while I run out and get it?”

Clerk: “Not a problem.”

(I run out, get my ID, come back, and finish the transaction without any more hiccups.)

Me: “I am so sorry about that. I’m just usually not so scatterbrained. Thank you for being patient with me!”

Clerk: “Ma’am, you didn’t yell at me once, and you apologized even though you didn’t have to. Believe me; I’ve had worse customers.”

(As if on cue, I hear the sound of raised voices from customer service.)

Me: “I can imagine; have a great day!”

(I’m the idiot customer in this one. I’m ordering my drink after much deliberation, having already held up the queue for a good minute longer than I needed to purely because I am exhausted and flustered.)

Me: “Umm… Okay, I think I’ll have a salted caramel hot chocolate, please.”

Barista: “Sure thing.”

(He gives me a friendly smile; he has been patient throughout.)

Me: *relaxing enough to suddenly realize I missed something important* “Oh! Make sure it’s decaf, please. I’ve not been sleeping well, and the last thing I need is to make it worse.”

Barista: *doesn’t have the heart to point out that there’s no caffeine in a hot chocolate* “Sure thing, hon.”

Me: *super relieved, and relaxes enough to work out my own error* “Sorry…”

Barista: “Don’t worry about it; we all have those days.” *gives me another awesome smile and a free chocolate flake*

(Thank God for the kindness of strangers.)