(My best friend’s four-year-old daughter is like a niece to me, and since I don’t have children of my own, I love when it’s time to give her birthday and Christmas gifts, etc. This year, I will be out of town on Christmas, so my friend lets her open her gifts from me early. I always get her one item from her wish list, and a couple of books in whatever reading level she’s up to now. Her mom mentioned that [Niece] has been really interested in figures like Amelia Earhart lately, and I found a kid’s book about famous women who changed history, like Earhart, Marie Curie, etc.)

Niece: *opens her first present, a jewelry box that matches her bedroom theme* “Yay! Thank you, Aunt [My Name]!”

Me: “I’m glad you like it! Here’s your second gift.”

Niece: *opens the second package, two new books, including the one on famous women* “THANK YOU! I love them!”

(I chat for while longer with my friend and watch [Niece] organize her new jewelry box. Later that night after I go back home, I get a text from my friend. It’s a picture of [Niece] reading her new book.)

Friend: “[Niece] loves her book! She says, ‘When I grow up I want to be a woman that changes the world.’”

(My heart just melted! I love giving kids gifts that are fun but also challenge their imaginations and ambitions.)

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(It’s my first time at my friends’ place. They are keeping cute little corn snakes as pets. I love snakes, but I’ve never had the chance to meet one, not counting zoos, so my friends offer to let one snake crawl on me.)

Friend #1: “[Snake] is very friendly; just try to be calm.”

(Inexperienced as I am, I worry that the snake might fall easily if I don’t offer my arms as “tree branches” quick enough, while it curiously crawls onto me. It grabs my first hand and arm and looks for the next point to hang on, so I quickly offer my other hand as well. As the snake wiggles around my hands, I notice that it wasn’t such a clever move on my part, as even such a small snake is quite strong, and now it clings to my wrists, holding up its cute little head between them with a proud face that says, “Me is best handcuffs!”)

Friend #1: “He’s a captivating personality, isn’t he?”

Friend #2: “You two really are bonding!”

(For those who wonder, the snake released me after due admiration, and we spent the next few days observing each other curiously.)

(I recently divorced my abusive, controlling husband. I have been awarded custody of our two kids, and he was ordered to pay child support. My ex-husband left us with nothing, has never paid any of the alimony or child support that the court ordered him to, and has constantly done whatever he can to make life difficult for us. Ordering food deliveries has been his latest weapon of choice. One evening I’m standing in the kitchen, looking over the little food I’ve been able to buy, wondering how I’m going to feed both of my children and myself, when there’s a knock at the door. I groan, as I know it’s yet another food delivery that my ex-husband has ordered, and that I’m going to have to explain a painful and embarrassing situation to yet another person. I open the door, and sure enough, there’s a man from a local pizza company here with a large amount of pizzas, enough to feed an entire sports team. I barely manage to return his greeting before I start crying.)

Delivery Man: “Hi, I’ve got an order for… Ma’am? Is something wrong?”

Me: *between sobs* “I… I’m so sorry. You were pranked. My ex-husband ordered all this, trying to hurt me by making me spend money I don’t have. I’m so sorry, but I didn’t order this, I can’t pay for it, and you’ve had your time wasted.”

(At this point, my children start quietly asking me:)

Children: “Mummy, are we having pizza tonight? Can we keep it? Please?”

(Their pleas cut me to the quick, and I start sobbing, unable to control myself any longer.)

Delivery Man: “Your ex did this? To what end? To hurt you? To upset those adorable munchkins that are trying to hide behind the wall over there?”

Me: *sobbing harder* “Yes.”

(The delivery man looks incredibly angry.)

Delivery Man: “Ma’am, all of this is on me. There is no circumstance where I’ll stand by and allow someone to cause so much hurt to a mother and her children. Keep all of this. Whatever you can’t eat, freeze. If you reheat it in the oven, it’ll be as good as fresh. Whenever you run out, call the store and ask for me by name. I’ll bring you enough food to keep you and your kids fed as long as you need.”

(At this point, I am crying so hard that I can barely respond to him. His kindness has completely overwhelmed me, and my children are smiling for the first time in weeks. I try to offer him money, and he brushes my attempt away.)

Delivery Man: “Ma’am, I cannot take anything from you. Your ex tried to use me to hurt you; I’m not going to be used in such a manner. I’ve had my own share of experiences similar to yours, and turning an act of hate into an act of empathy is enough for me. You keep taking care of your kids, and call my store whenever you need.”

(With that, he carried everything into my kitchen, ruffled my childrens’ hair, flashed me a cheerful grin, and wished us all a good night. While I never took him up on his offer to deliver us food whenever we needed it, I will never forget the impact he had on my children and me in the darkest time of our lives. His generosity and kindness not only gave my children a full belly but renewed my faith in the kindness of people. I doubt he’ll ever read this, but if he does, I want to say thank you. He brightened all our lives.)

Related:
A Hot Slice Of Kindness, Part 3
A Hot Slice Of Kindness, Part 2
A Hot Slice Of Kindness

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(One spring, my ten-year-old brother starts campaigning for a puppy. My parents tell him, “We’ll see,” until summer vacation, at which point they show him a large chart.)

Brother: “What’s this?”

Mom: “This is your puppy earning chart. If you want that dog, you’re going to earn him.”

Brother: “Like, with my allowance?”

Dad: “No, with work. Dogs are a lot of work, and we’re not getting one until you prove to us that you will take care of him. We’ll help, of course, but you want the dog, so you have to do the work.”

Mom: “This chart has two parts. One for exercise, and one for chores. Every day this summer that you go out and walk around the neighborhood, at least a mile, you get an exercise check. And every day that you do your chores without us having to nag you, you get a chore check.”

Brother: “Because… dogs need walking! And feeding, and playtime, and stuff!”

Dad: “Exactly. So, if you get both checks on fifty or more days this summer, you’ve proved yourself, and you get what you want. Deal?”

Brother: “Deal!”

(“Treasure” the golden retriever came home with my brother the following fall.)

This story is part of our Golden Retriever roundup!

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(I am in the diner of a popular international home goods store. They recently added an espresso machine to the drink station, a few feet away from the registers, so now customers can get free refills on lattes, cappuccinos, and americanos just like the regular coffee. It is a very popular addition. The drink takes a few moments to steam the milk and dispense, so a small line has formed. One fellow in his forties keeps sighing and rolling his eyes as each order is dispensed, clearly impatient. The young woman in front of him gives him a raised eyebrow, but says nothing. Then the machine runs out of beans on the customer in front of her, and says to wait for an attendant.)

Man: “Oh, my God! It’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone!” *yelling towards registers* “Hey! Your machine’s broken down again!“

(The young woman in front of him rolls her eyes.)

Man: “I know, right? This machine broke down earlier, too, and even when it works, it takes forever. Now we have to wait for someone to come out and fix it, and then, like clockwork, it breaks down again! I don’t know why they insult us with this piece of junk. It’s ridiculous!”

Woman: *snapping* “You’re ridiculous!”

Man: “Excuse me?!”

Woman: *turning on him* “First of all, each drink takes like fifteen seconds to make, but it sure feels longer listening to you constantly huffing back there. Also, I’m no mechanic, but I’m pretty sure it’s not broken down. It just doesn’t have a magical infinite supply of coffee beans, so if you can handle just waiting for a freaking second you can get your $3 bottomless drink that you somehow still manage to complain about.”

(The man turns red and goes quiet for a moment. The attendant comes during this exchange and goes about refilling the machine, pretending not to overhear.)

Attendant: “Sorry about that, folks. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

Woman: “Not at all. Thank you.”

Man: “Excuse me! Does she work here? She was very rude to me just now.”

Woman: “No, I don’t.”

Attendant: *shakes head and walks away quickly*

Man: “What’s your name? Where do you work?”

Woman: “None of your f****** business.”

Other Man: *who’s been at the front of line* “Oh, look! It only took a moment, and we can have our nearly-instant luxury again. Can we stop having a fit, now?”

(The man in back of the line huffs again as the customer in front orders a latte, then, with an evil grin, hits the button again for a cappuccino, which fills it to the rim of the cup.)

Woman: “A double? Ooh, that’s genius! Well, why not? It is free, after all!”

Other Man: *brightly* “Why not, indeed!”

(Their four drinks combined force the angry guy in the back to wait about a whole minute, and he looks ready to explode. The man finally snatches his drink and stomps off, red-aced. The woman laughs and looks over at where I’ve been listening discreetly and says:)

Woman: “Oh, man, I love being off the clock.”

Related:
Has No Problem Espresso-ing Herself, Part 5
Has No Problem Espresso-ing Herself, Part 4
Has No Problem Espresso-ing Herself, Part 3