(I work at the deli counter in a grocery store during the post-church rush on a Sunday. A family comes up to the counter and orders a couple half-pounds of a couple of lunch meats and politely leave. After the rush subsides a few minutes later, I decide to take my lunch break and sit in the cafe. I then see the family sit down in a booth near me and start to make sandwiches with the meats I cut for them. We notice each other but don’t exchange any words until a few minutes later.)

Customer: “You see that young lady? She’s the one who cut up the meats for us.”

Customer’s Granddaughter: “Thank you!”

Me: “Oh, well, I’m glad you’re enjoying them.”

Customer: “We are. I think we’re going to come here every Sunday from now on and look for you.”

Me: “Oh, well, I don’t work every Sunday morning, but if I’m here I’ll be glad to help.”

Customer: “We’ll look for you, then.”

(We don’t talk to each other for the rest of my break, but that small thank you helped me stay positive for the rest of my shift. Thank you, random family, and I hope to see you again!)

(We’ve recently moved to a new town and are visiting the library for the first time. My kids are acting excited and a bit noisy with their chatter.)

Me: “Kids, quiet down. Let’s go sit here and look at these books. Shhh!”

Librarian: “Please don’t shush your children. It’s quite all right for your kids to make noise in here. In fact, we encourage them to interact and enjoy the space and the books.” *to kids* “What sort of books do you like?” *wanders off to show the kids where the fun stuff is*

Me: “…”

(We love our library and our librarians are the best!)

(Working at a toy store, I see a lot of horrible parents refuse to buy toys for their children because they think the toy is for the “wrong” gender. One day, a grandma and a little boy come in. The little boy is about five, and has many mannerisms that people characterize as “feminine” or “gay.”)

Grandma: “Hello. Do you have any batons?”

Me: “Yes, we do. They’re right over here.”

Boy: “Oh, yay! They have batons!” *claps hands excitedly, jumps up and down*

Grandma: “We’ll take one, please.”

(They left, with the boy soooo happy about his baton. To the grandma it was no big deal, and she was just happy that they found what he wanted. Whenever I have a bad day, I always remember baton-grandma and feel better about the world.)

(I’m walking through a big dog park, where people often leave their used dog bags behind them, and it gets kind of gross over time. I see a mom bag up her dog’s poop, and then drop the bag on the trail.)

Four-Year-Old Son: “Mommy, you forgot the bag.”

Mom: “Oh, honey, we’ll get it on the way back out.”

Four-Year-Old Son: “But we need to throw it away.”

Mom: “It’s too far to the next trash can. We’ll get it later.”

Four-Year-Old Son: “But Mommy, we can’t just leave poopy behind.” *picks up the bag and hands it to his mom* “We’ll find a trash can soon.”

(I get a phone call early to say I need to get to my grandad very quickly. Using trams, buses and trains, I spend the morning travelling the 270 miles as fast as I can, not knowing whether I’ll be in time. When I arrive at his local station, I jump in a taxi, which pulls out into heavy traffic.)

Driver: *cheerfully* “You’re not in a hurry, are you?”

Me: *on the verge of tears* “My Grandad… I don’t know… I just…”

Driver: *looks at me in the mirror* “Oh, love… hang on!”

(He drives the wrong way up a very short (and empty) one way street, bypassing the unmoving traffic, and getting me to the care home in a few minutes. He risked his licence and I got there in time to say goodbye.)