(I work at a chain craft store as a cashier. Two boys, around 16 years old, come through my line with two spools of ribbon – one green and one blue.)

Me: “Did you guys find everything all right today?”

Teen #1: “Yeah, I guess.”

Me: “You don’t sound too sure! Was there anything I can help you find?”

Teen #1: “Well, actually, I was looking for peacock ribbon, but these’ll do.”

Me: “You know, I think I actually saw some ribbon with peacock feathers on it in our Christmas department.”

Teen #1: “Really? Can I go check?”

Me: “Absolutely.”

(I direct the teens to the Christmas aisles and continue ringing up other customers like normal. About five minutes later they come back through my line with two spools of the peacock ribbon.)

Me: “Oh, great! You guys found it.”

Teen #1: *very enthusiastically* “Yup! Can I hug you?”

Me: “Umm… what?”

Teen #1: “This ribbon is perfect! I wanted to thank you for directing me to it!”

Teen #2: “His girlfriend is getting her leg amputated today.”

Teen #1: “Her favorite animal is the peacock, so I was looking for the perfect ribbon to decorate her crutches! I’m so happy I found it! I hope she likes it!”

Me: “Oh, my gosh, that is the sweetest thing I ever heard! Of course you can hug me!”

(He forgot to hug me after the transaction was completed, but I still remember this as one of my favorite customer service stories.)

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(A coworker of mine posted this story on a local social media group:)

Coworker: “To the lady in the white van who cut me off at the intersection to get to the drive-thru before me: you paid for my order as an apology, and it made my day!”

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(It’s fall, and we’re expecting it to be a cold early winter. I had previously made a comment to one of my managers about being worried about lack of money to buy winter apparel for my son, which is a large concern being a single mom in a minimum wage position. I’m at work when a supervisor who has a young daughter strikes up a conversation.)

Supervisor: “Oh, my goodness, my daughter is growing like a weed. It needs to stop.”

Me: “I know, right? They grow up too fast.”

Supervisor: “I know. So, what size is your son in now?”

Me: “Oh, he’s gotten so big. He’s in a ‘small boys’ now. Thankfully he’s only tall so he fits in a better range.”

Supervisor: “Yeah, my daughter is the same way, tall and thin. So, what shoe size does he wear?”

Me: “13 or 1, depending on the brand.”

Supervisor: “Oh, yeah, I know how it is. Some brands are too small.”

(It’s at this time I have to step away to help a customer at the cash registers but it’s only a couple hours later that another manager comes to me while I’m on register and tells me to turn off my light and meet her at the jewelry counter. After finishing up with my customer I head to the jewelry counter to find the manager who told me to meet her and the manager mentioned previously, at the jewelry register making a purchase. Manager #1 smiles at me and hands me a large bag.)

Manager #1: “Here you go; you mentioned not being able to afford winter things for your son.”

(Inside the bag was a winter jacket, snow pants, new boots, winter hat, and gloves. It was at this point I started crying and hugging both the managers. It came out that the supervisor had been in on this, and had been fishing for information with her small talk. Not even twenty minutes later, after calming down, my HR manager came through my line at the register and bought new cold weather pants and socks for my son. I couldn’t even cry at this because I still had customers and she walked away, telling me to pick up the clothes in her office. There may be issues at my work but my managers and supervisors are the best.)

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(I am about six or seven, and we go to the zoo as part of our family holiday. I miss a step and fall face-first onto a bench, splitting my lip open. Blood everywhere, my mother takes me to the bathroom to deal with the blood, and by pure luck some nurses are in there at the time. They take us to the first aid centre, where again by luck there is an off-duty doctor rather than a first aider, which is normally the case. The decision is made that I don’t require stitches and we eventually continue around the zoo.)

Me: *crying to my mother* “I’m not pretty anymore! I’m not your pretty little girl!”

(At that moment a random couple in gothic clothing walk past, with brightly-coloured mohawks.)

Gothic Guy: “I think you’re the most beautiful person in the whole place.”

(Thank you, mister, for your kindness on a rather terrible day. I will always have the scars on my face, but that day taught me of the kindness of others.)

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(I am a waitress on duty serving an interracial gay couple. A grumpy man comes in and spots them holding hands.)

Man: “That’s disgusting! I can’t look at that while I eat!”

(Everyone is speechless. The man looked like he was expecting murmurs of agreement but instead is shocked at the silence. All of a sudden, a young girl nearby with her father speaks up.)

Girl: “I think your attitude is the most disgusting thing here! I can’t eat here if you’re here!”

(She gets up and walks to the door. The father drops some money on the table and follows. Everybody claps and the man leaves in a huff.)