(I am at the ending of a transaction for a difficult customer, who has her grandson with her.)

Me: “That’s [amount], please.”

Customer: *hands over cash*

Me: “That’s your change; thanks, and have a good day.”

Customer’s Grandson: “Thank you, lady.”

Customer: “Come on now.”

Customer’s Grandson: “But you didn’t say thank you. YOU DIDN’T SAY THANK YOU TO THE LADY!”

(I am so glad that kid came in; he made my day!)

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(My immediate family has, at this point in the story, been basically homeless for about a year due to financial reasons. With both parents working full time and two school-age children, they are only barely getting by in a one-room hotel. My cat and I are staying with friends and splitting my paycheck between my parents and my rent. So, saving money is completely out of the question, and no place will rent to them because they were evicted from their last home. After a year of living this way and many, many rejections when they try to find a place, we are all pretty much losing hope. Randomly, on the Internet, we come across a neat little house. We give the guy a call, and agree to take a look at the house. When we get there, this happens.)

Landlord: “So, here’s the house! It’s a four-bedroom place, a bit older, but wonderful location. Large yard, great for the little ones, and we just upgraded the master bedroom!”

Dad: *in awe* “This… this is perfect! I love the location, and the house is so big! It’s amazing!”

Landlord: “Great! I’ll just have you fill out this application and I’ll need the first month’s rent and the down payment if your references check out!”

Dad: *sighs regretfully* “Sir, the thing is, I have no references. I need to be honest right now instead of later. We were evicted from our last home, been living in a hotel for the last year because no one will give us a chance, even though we are paying [ridiculously high amount] monthly as it is just to live there! But if you give us a chance, I swear to you I’ll pay the rent over my own food if I have to.”

Landlord: *pauses thoughtfully, for just a bit too long* “Y’know what? Forget the application. Forget the down payment. Pay me the first month’s rent and turn on the electricity by the end of the month, and the house is yours. When I was a young man, I lived behind dumpsters and begged for food until someone decided that I was worth taking a chance on. No one deserves to be homeless just because nobody will give them a chance. Come by my office tomorrow to sign the papers. Heck, start moving in today if you’d like! You need to get out of that hotel. You can take as long as you need to continue looking at the house.”

(My dad stood there in shock as the landlord handed him a KEY and walked out. The next day he went to go sign the papers and the rent agreement mentioned no pets allowed, which my littlest sibling caught sight of.)

Little Sibling: “No pets?! What about kitty!”

Landlord: “You have a cat? What’s his name?”

Dad: “[Cat], but if it’s going to be a problem, he’s already staying with friends…”

Landlord: *grabs a pen and starts writing on the lease* “Five people… and [Cat]. There — now he’s a part of the family!”

(We moved in by month’s end and have been living there for a really long time now. Seriously, the most amazing landlord, and person, I’ve ever met, and a wonderful, wonderful lesson in paying it forward, one which I very much try to live up to. Thank you so much, sir, for giving us a chance when no one else would!)

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(It is around 8:00 at night. I have just taken a cab to Port Authority to get a bus back home. The cab drops me off at the corner right before the station. I suddenly have a feeling that I’ve forgotten something and reach into my purse… to discover that my cell phone is not there. I begin frantically trying to find the cab I was just in, but there are at least a half dozen cabs in front of the station. After asking one cabbie if I was just in his taxi, I ask another, who, seeing my distress, asks what’s wrong.)

Me: “Was your cab the one I was just in?”

Cab Driver: “No, I don’t think so.”

Me: “Oh. Um… I’m sorry.”

Cab Driver: *sees that I am in distress about something* “What’s wrong?”

Me: *trying not to cry* “I can’t find my cell phone and I think I left it in a cab. I don’t remember the cab number and I have to get a bus back home soon and I don’t know what to do…”

Cab Driver: “Okay, why don’t you give me your number and we’ll call and see if the driver answers, then have him come back here to give you the phone.”

(I give the cab driver my cell number and we call several times, but there is no answer. We start figuring out an alternate plan so he can get my phone back to me if he finds it after I’ve left, which freaks me out even more because I don’t live in the city and have no idea if I’m ever going to see my phone again. We’re about to try calling my phone once more when the cab driver’s phone rings. It’s a random number. The driver puts his phone on speaker.)

Caller: “Hi, I found someone’s iPhone. Is it yours?”

Me: “Yes!”

Cab Driver: “Yes, it’s hers. We’re in front of [Bus Station]. Where are you?”

Caller: “In front of [Bank that I was dropped off nearby my original cab driver].”

Cab Driver: “Okay. We’ll find you. What is your cab number?”

Caller: “My what?”

Cab Driver & Me: “Your taxi number?”

(This goes back and forth for a few minutes, as he seems to have no idea what we’re talking about. Not wanting to wait any longer, the driver gets out of his cab, and we walk not even half a block to the bank, trying to find this cab. A man is standing in front of the bank.)

Caller: *sees us* “It’s you!”

(We all take a beat to realize that he’s the one who called the cab driver. We’d thought he was a cab driver himself, but he was a stranger who had found my phone on the street, where it must’ve fallen when I got out of the cab. He still has his phone up to his ear, and in his other hand is my phone, which he holds out to me.)

Me: “That’s mine! Oh, my God, thank you so much!”

(I nearly sob with relief and give him a huge hug. I profusely thank him and the random cab driver for helping me, and apologize to the driver for all the trouble. And to top it all off, I still made my bus, with two minutes to spare. There really ARE good people in this world…)

(I’ve already been having a bad day with ‘aunt flo’ coming to visit, so I’m ready to burst into tears at any moment. This is the day my math professor hands us back our test that we had taken at the end of last week. This is a test I thought I had done actually really well, but that is not the case; I get it back and it’s an ‘F.’)

Me: *trying my best not to burst into tears*

Professor: “Hey, [My Name], what’s wrong?”

(I show him my test and already I’m starting to cry.)

Professor: “Oh, right… You thought you did really well, right? Come on to my office. We’ll talk about this.”

(We go to his office, and I’m already crying my eyes out, barely able to talk but he goes over the stuff with me and we realize I just made simple mistakes and switched some stuff around. Otherwise, he says, it would have been a good grade.)

Professor: “Hey! There we go! It was all just some simple mistakes; here, let me mark them for you, and this way you can have this on the retake!”

Me: *barely able to get out a thank you*

(He let me stay there in his office and helped me to calm down, and offered to help me more on the tests. Thank you so much, sir. Math is NOT my best subject but you actually took the time to help me with it.)

(I had major surgery as a child that has left me with fairly significant arthritis. I am in my early thirties, but during the winter, especially when we have damp weather, I am often left hobbling around like someone three times my age. On this particular day I badly need to do dishes and realize I am completely out of dish detergent. I live right next to a convenience store, and so I walk over to purchase some. It is December and there is ice on the ground, so I am not only stooped over and hobbling, but walking very slowly and cautiously. A young man of about 18 sees me crossing the parking lot and reaches the door before I do. He stands holding the door for nearly a full minute before I reach it.)

Me: *almost in tears because I was having such a crummy day and I can’t believe he has waited for me* “Thank you so much. That was unbelievably kind!”

Man: *smiles* “No problem! It looked like you have a little ‘hitch in your gettalong’ today and could use some help!”

(I smile in agreement and go to find my detergent. When I get to the cashier, I am behind the young man again. He is speaking to the cashier and sounds distressed.)

Man: “Are you sure? My paycheck was supposed to go in last night.”

Cashier: “I’m sorry; it’s saying it’s declined. Maybe you should call your bank?”

(I peek around and notice that he has a few cheap frozen pizzas and a few drinks. Being in a college town, I surmise that these are probably his meals for the week and having his card decline means he won’t be able to eat. I am fumbling for my credit card when he starts to walk away, shoulders slumped. I ask the cashier to put his items on my card. She asks if I’m sure, and when I nod vigorously, she calls out to the young man to stop him. He walks back, looking understandably suspicious.)

Me: “Please wait a moment. She’s running my card for your items and my detergent.”

Man: *now looking like HE might cry* “Are you serious? I’ll pay you back; I promise.”

Me: “Don’t worry about paying me back. You were so nice to hold the door for me, and you didn’t say a single thing about how I look all bent over. Please accept these as my ‘thank you!'”

(The cashier had finished bagging his things and handed them to him. He thanked me again and left, looking like a weight has been lifted. To be honest, I think it made me just as happy to do it as it made him.)

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