I work in a 24/7 fast food joint with a public bathroom inside. The shop is next to a popular homeless shelter, and sometimes, someone homeless would come into the bathrooms to “shower.” We cannot turn anyone away from using the bathroom.

One morning, I come in at five am and our night crew lets me know that someone is in the bathroom. After about ten minutes, I hear hollering followed by banging. It sounds like they’re yelling “yoo-hoo!” and have a real good time. I text my night crew and they said it’s been going on since about two am, but they never saw anyone go in. Knocking on the door, no one replies; they just kept yelling.

My manager comes in shortly after and immediately calls the police. It takes the police officers over an hour to get the man to leave the bathroom. I am sent in to clean up after him, and the walls are coated in dirt, blood, and poop. There is toilet paper everywhere, and about a dozen used needles.

My manager tapes garbage bags to my legs and arms, and right before I actually go in, the police stop me because it’s a crime scene. They take ONE needle, and leave.

It took me about two hours to clean it, and I cried while mopping the walls and picking up dirty needles.

(I’m a fifteen-year veteran paramedic. I’ve just come into work to pick up my ambulance and start my shift when my supervisor informs me that I have been scheduled for a meeting with both Human Resources and Quality Assurance the next morning. These meetings are usually a very big deal, meaning that somewhere a policy or procedure in treatment wasn’t followed, and disciplinary action is usually involved. So, not the best news. I spend my shift talking to my paramedic partner about every call we’d run in the month prior, trying to figure out what might have happened, but nothing pops on our radar. Skip to the next morning. I show up for the meeting and everyone is pleasant and there are some people there, with a small infant, that I don’t know.)

Quality Assurance Manager: “[My Name], do you recognize any of these folks?”

Me: “No, sir. I’m afraid I don’t.”

Woman: *holding baby* “My husband and I were involved in a very serious accident three months ago while I was pregnant… a week away from my due date. You and your partner were the first people on scene; they told us later that you drove up, and dove right in without any hesitation whatsoever. You put me onto a helicopter because I was pregnant and sent my husband by ground ambulance to the same hospital so we wouldn’t be separated. After my surgery and emergency C-section I have a healthy me and a healthy, happy child. The trauma doc told us that your decisions on the side of that road saved both me and the baby. Would you like to meet her? I can’t think of any better way to say thank you.”

(I held that darling little girl for the better part of an hour, cooing and feeding her and getting to know her amazing parents. After a round of hugs and many thanks all around, I was absolutely floored that these people had taken the time to hunt us down to say thank you. It doesn’t happen often in my line of work, but the times it does mean so much.)

(My sister and I are going down on a lift. It jolts slightly between floors and moments later my sister whispers in my ear.)

Sister: “I need a tampon!”

Me: “A tampon?”

Sister: “Did I stutter? Get me one!”

(I’m at a loss as to how I can make one magically appear, so I turn to the rest of the lift.)

Me: “ANYONE GOT A TAMPON?”

(My sister goes red in the face as two women look quizzically at me and then to my sister. One of them produces a single tampon from her handbag and hands it to her. The rest of the lift is relatively un-phased other than some smirking. My sister runs out and to the nearest toilet where I wait for her.)

Sister: *while coming out* “That was EMBARRASSING. Why would you do that?”

Me: “I’m a guy and we were in a lift. What else could I do?”

Sister: “I… I suppose you’re right. I guess I wasn’t thinking. Still embarrassing though!”

Me: *smirking* “Funny, too.”

(I still tease her about it from time to time.)

I am 17, and due to the super-high pressure of having to get perfect grades, work, and be in many activities, plus already having anxiety, I am not doing well, and have gotten into self-harm for some time. I often take a break from all this by staying with my best friend and her family. I am especially close to her mom, who is a doctor, since I’m really interested in medicine. However, one very early morning after staying over, I can’t stop myself from self-harming at my friend’s place. I hope to go back to bed unnoticed, as it’s just after five am, but her mom is also up early and almost literally runs into me.

She barks at me to sit down, because I look so pale and am carefully cradling my injured arm. Before I can do much more than stammer my protests, my friend’s mom has taken my vital signs and tries to roll up my sleeve. I frantically shake my head and try to jerk away, until she promises that she just wants to see that I’m all right and won’t get angry at me.

When she sees the injury, she pauses, takes a deep breath, assures me it’s OK, and tells me to stay where I am. Instead of calling my parents, 911, or starting in on me, she comes back with a massive, well-stocked first aid box, and calmly patches me up.

She then says that speaking as a professional, I need counseling and to have complete blood testing done, to check my iron levels and rule out physical causes for why I feel so bad emotionally. And, speaking as a mother, she would want to know if her daughter felt bad enough to self-harm, so I need to tell my parents.

This was a really small act of kindness, but ensured I got the help I needed, and knew someone cared about me in that dark time.

This is something I like taking pride in as a gamer. I’m a member of a small community online dedicated to gaming and listing collections. The community is tight knit and almost like a family. Unfortunately, one of the longtime members had passed away from cancer and the community has been pretty devastated by the loss.

One of the deceased member’s last tweets on her Twitter account was a request that someone does a cancer charity marathon in her memory if she passes away soon. It took a bit of planning, but the site owner, his girlfriend, and his best friend scheduled a weekend-long gaming marathon while the rest of us pooled in our money for the cause.

The marathon was an absolute blast and everyone agreed it was a perfect celebration of life for her. In the end, we managed to raise over $3000 from our small community to help patients and victims of cancer.

It may seem small, but we all hoped it would help make a difference.