(During my senior year of high school, my mother passed away from stage-four lung cancer on the day before Thanksgiving. Since her passing, it has been a really difficult time for my family and with the holidays being right around the corner makes it a lot harder for us money wise. My mother was well known around my school district for being on the school board and volunteering within the community so during her battle and after her passing, my school has been nothing but great to my family. During the final class on the day before school lets out for Christmas break, I am called down to the principal’s office and when I see my dad sitting in the office waiting for me, I am not really sure what to expect, until the principal hands me a gift bag.)

Principal: “I know this has been a really tough time for your family and I wanted to give you my deepest condolences once again for your loss. [My Name] is a wonderful student and your family is well-respected within our district. We wanted to do something a little bit special for your family for the holidays.

(I open the bag and see a bunch of Christmas cards, gift cards for different restaurants and stores, and a bunch of Christmas cookies and candy inside, and look back at my principal speechless.)

Principal: “Your family has been a wonderful addition to our district and we couldn’t appreciate everything your mother did for us. Some of your teachers and other staff members in this school have each bought a gift card to a restaurant or store to help make this difficult time a little easier for you. I have a list of the staff members who helped contribute and I will read the names to you.”

(As the principal reads the list names of everyone, my father and I looked at the gift cards and each of them are worth more than 100 dollars. When he finishes, my dad and I are both close to tears and I am too speechless to even speak.)

Dad: “I don’t even know how to thank you for what you’re doing for my family.”

Principal: “You don’t have to thank me. [My Name] is a wonderful student and all of her teachers love having her in their classes. And [Mother] will be missed by everyone in this district. This is our way for giving back to you for all that you have done for our school. If there is anything else we can do for your family, please don’t hesitate to ask. We are here for you.”

(My dad and I left the principal’s office a couple minutes later in tears. It was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done to us during an extremely difficult time. My father wasn’t sure how he was going to get through Christmas after the funeral expenses and the gift cards have helped us a lot!)

(I’m swinging by the supermarket to pick up just one thing… a bottle of Midol. All I want to do is get home and relax. I’ve paid and am actually about to climb in my car when I hear someone shouting, and turn to see the cashier, a young girl, running after me.)

Cashier: “This is for you.” *she hands me a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels*

Me: “Oh… uh, I didn’t buy these. They must belong to someone else.”

Cashier: “No, I know. I got them for you. I always crave these on my period and they make me feel better, so I thought they might do the same for you.”

Me: *shocked* “Oh… wow! That’s so sweet of you! Thank you!”

Cashier: “You’re welcome. Feel better.” *smiles, turns, and trots off*

(It was a really minor thing, but it was such a sweet gesture for a complete stranger to try and make my day brighter when she saw I was hurting and it meant a lot. I wrote into the supermarket company office about what an amazing employee she is, and I hope she never loses that wonderful spark of thoughtfulness and kindness.)

(We have a 24-year-old who works basically as a receptionist for our box office. She answers the phones, directs workers, and handles little stuff for us so we don’t have to. It’s clearly her first office job after a string of terrible retail jobs, and she’s confessed she’s afraid she’ll mess up and have to go back to retail. Because part of her job is answering the phone, we ask that she not answer her personal phone if it rings. She usually just keeps it in her purse until break. One day I notice she has it sitting on her desk and keeps glancing at it.)

Me: “Everything okay?”

Worker: “Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ve got an important phone call due soon. Would it be okay if I answered it? Sorry, it’s really important.”

Me: “Sure, just let [Coworker] know so she can cover the phones while you do.”

Worker: *look of utter relief* “Thanks. It’s from my doctor and they were supposed to call yesterday.”

Me: “Doctors, man. They never call back when they say they will.”

(About an hour late, I hear buzzing, and then see [Worker] bolt down the hallway, phone in hand.)

Me: *to Coworker* “Any idea what’s going on? I’m getting worried.”

Coworker: “She wouldn’t say. I hope it’s nothing bad. I feel really bad for her sometimes, you know? She’s told literal horror stories of having to work at her other jobs while sick, or not being allowed to call off and she sometimes acts like the smallest mistake will make her lose this job. Yesterday she told me about how she had to miss a funeral because her last job wouldn’t let her have the day off.”

Me: *shuddering* “I do not miss retail. I have no problems letting her go home early if she needs it. You?”

Coworker: “Nope.”

([Worker] comes back, kinda pale, and looks like she’s trying not to cry. She goes straight to her desk and sits down, pulling up her work and tapping half-heartedly at the keys. [Coworker] and I exchange glances.)

Coworker: “[Worker]?”

Worker: *sniffling* “Yeah? Sorry. Hang on; I have a tissue in my purse… Sorry, sorry, would it be okay if I went home? I know it’s sudden but I can come in early tomorrow or—”

Me: “No, it’s fine; it’s fine. Are you okay?”

Worker: “I… just found out I have cancer. Um, I’m probably going to need to put in my two weeks while I get treatment—”

Me: “What?! No, absolutely not! You go home and get everything situated. If you feel up to it, come in whenever you want tomorrow and we’ll get this sorted. I’m gonna drive you home, and don’t worry about your job. Worry about your health!”

(She wound up needing surgery and a few rounds of chemo, but our parent company had no problem holding her job for her in the meantime, and even took up donations to help her pay for everything. She’s currently in remission and I’m happy to say she still works for us. I shudder to think what would have happened if she’d been at her old job when that happened…)

(I am in line with my 10-month-old son, who is behaving himself wonderfully. We are playing games in line while the couple in front of me were chatting with the cashier. My turn comes next and I watch the other couple hurry away.)

Cashier: “Here.”

(She then hands me some money.)

Cashier: “The couple in front wanted you to have this.”

Me: “Wow, thanks.”

Cashier: “Wait, you didn’t know them?”

Me: “No. Never met them before in my life.”

Customer Behind Me: “Wish that would happen to me! It’s people like that that make me hopeful for the world, though.”

(By the time I ran out to find them they were gone. Thank you, random couple!)

(I started volunteering at a charity shop a few months ago, partly to get work experience, partly to help out the community, and partly to help push myself in getting out of the house more and working past some anxieties. On only my second day, I’m scammed at the till. It was the method of handing money back and forth and trying to add little, cheap things to his purchase that utterly threw me, and I had not been told what to do. He only got away with £10 but it could have easily been more. My supervisor was totally fine with it, talked me through what to do the next time, and I wasn’t in any trouble. However, internally I was beating myself up, thinking some not very nice thoughts about myself, feeling ashamed and violated that someone did that to me. Naturally I’m a trusting individual who, possibly naively, believes the best about people. Another man comes in, an elderly gentleman who at first seems fine. As he approaches the counter, he starts looking about shiftily, glancing around at other customers and looking to see where my supervisor is.)

Me: *thinking* “Oh, great, another one.”

(The customer approaches the counter with a few pounds worth of goods. As he’s paying, he dips his hand into his pocket and pulls out… some boiled sweets. He looks about again then pushes the sweets across to me.)

Customer: “You’re new, aren’t you? Here you go, love! Don’t let them see!”

Me: “Oh! Thank you very much.” *bemused, I accept the sweets and pocket them*

Customer: *winks, taps his nose, and scurries out of the shop as if he’s going to be in trouble*

(I later asked my supervisor about him; this gentleman is a regular and always sneaks sweets in as though he’s not allowed to do so. Every time I’ve been working since then, if he’s come in he has shuffled over to give me some sweets and asked how I was getting on with work, if I was enjoying it, and that he hoped I was having a good day. If he doesn’t have sweets that day, he’s so apologetic and I have to keep telling him it’s fine and that I appreciate his conversation just as much! I’ve since stopped caring about the scamming instance, thanks to this kind soul and the other regulars who all make an effort to stop and chat to me.)