(Most of you will be too young to remember the days when someone could go to jail if they had a birth certificate that said, “Male,” and they were caught wearing female clothing. Consequently, Hallowe’en is a HUGE party day for the gay community, which, of course, is very underground at this time. But many people want a special dress for the ball that is held annually, and if you can’t afford a dressmaker, what are you to do? I have some gay friends, so I am familiar with the lifestyle and trials of the times. I also work in the young women’s department. This happens on the weekend before Hallowe’en.)

Me: “Hello, sir, can I help you with something?”

Male Customer: “My sister is going to a semi-formal event, and I wanted to buy her dress for her as a surprise. She’s the same size as I am, pretty much.”

Me: “Let me show you what we have in stock.”

(After showing several dresses, which he looks at in great detail, trying to glimpse himself in the mirror with the dress held in front of him…)

Male Customer: “I think this one is nice. Maybe I’ll take it. What do you think?”

Me: “I’d vote against it, sir. The colour doesn’t suit your complexion at all.”

(The customer kind of ducks his head and blushes when he realises that I know what the story is.)

Me: “What I’d suggest for your sister is either this one or one of these two.”

(He decided to take one of the dresses I’d recommended and came back later to tell me he’d had a great time and loved the dress. I was so pleased to be able to make even just one night easier for someone who basically had to live a life of serious pretense in order to stay out of jail or not be beaten up. It isn’t perfect yet, but we have come a long way.)

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I’m donating blood for the first time. I made an attempt a few years ago, but was rejected because I weighed too little. Since then, I’ve been trying to keep my weight at a healthy level, waiting for an opportunity to try again, but not really making it a top priority.

While I’m waiting to get called in for evaluation, I notice an elderly man walking around talking to the other donors. He eventually comes up and starts talking to me. It turns out that this man has bone cancer, and is dependent on blood donations every three weeks for his health. He is making it his personal mission to thank all of us, because it is people like us that made sure he could live to see his two grandsons’ birthdays.

I get through the rest of it with a smile on my face, thinking about giving what I have to someone who needs it. It’s nice to be able to help people, but to see what exactly a simple blood donation can do really gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. Rest assured, I’ll be back to do it again when the 56-day rest period between shots ends.

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Last December, my great-grandma passed away after a long time in a nursing home in poor health. We knew that she would pass soon, but my family was still obviously very sad. My seven-year-old brother took it pretty hard, so my other two brothers and I tried to comfort him as best we could.

The time came for the funeral, which we had to explain a bit to my brother. It was a Catholic one, so it was held in a church and lasted a couple hours. I helped give the Eucharist, and my brothers and I helped carry the Gifts to the altar, all the while trying to convince my youngest brother that Great-Grandma wasn’t going to come back to life like you do in Minecraft. As you can imagine, we were pretty emotionally spent, and my mother and grandma were crying numerous times.

At the end of the funeral, four of the adult male family members came to help carry the coffin to the hearse. Mom was crying and holding Grandma, my aunt and uncle were holding back tears, and my cousins, siblings, and I watched quietly. Suddenly, my youngest brother walks towards the coffin and “helps” carry the coffin to the hearse, which wasn’t supposed to happen. My mother was shocked, but didn’t stop him in time before they were out the door.

Imagine being there, a ring of family members in solemn silence, suddenly laughing as their loved one is carried away! It was just so comical seeing my brother holding the coffin, right next to his very confused dad and uncle, that we couldn’t help it. That bit of comedy was just what we needed at such a sad moment in our life, and I firmly believe that God urged him to go so our great-grandma could go out with her family smiling for her and her descendants.

(It is a busy day where I work. I have endured a rude boss and a few rude customers. Finally, I am able to go out into the lobby to stock and clean it. While I am cleaning by the soda machines and condiment bar, a little boy of around five years old sees me crying to myself. Once they grab their orders, the boy and the older lady with him walk by me while I continue stocking the condiment bar. I feel a tap on my shoulder.)

Older Lady: “Are you okay, miss?”

Me: *thinking I’m not okay but if I say anything I’ll get in trouble* “I’m great, and I’m doing okay… Why?”

Older Lady: “My grandson said, ‘Grandma, I think that lady is crying; is she okay?’”

Me: *heart melts and I smile finally* “Please tell him that I’m fine, ma’am, and I appreciate his kind thoughts.”

Older Lady: *sees straight through me* “I hope your day gets better, miss.”

(I get more customers and deal with their orders, or stock behind counter. I finally get a chance to finish the lobby, and when I go back to the condiment bar she walks up to me.)

Older Lady: “My grandson felt really bad, and demanded we get you this from his allowance.” *gives me a super cute plushie giraffe keychain*

Me: “Oh, thank you, but I can’t.”

Older Lady: “He told me to make sure the nice lady up front got this from him.”

Me: *smiling* “Tell your wonderful grandson, ‘Thank you very much!’ He made my day a little sweeter!”

Older Lady: “I will. Thank you, miss; you’re doing a good job up there.”

My 15-year-old daughter was having particularly painful period cramps one day, and spent the day lying in bed. Her 12-year-old little brother asked what was wrong, and she told him; we’re very open about these sorts of things in our family. He then asked me if he could go for a bike ride, and I said yes.

He took his bike down to the nearest grocery store, went in and bought several of his sister’s favorite chocolate bars with his own money, and brought them home for her, telling her he hoped she felt better soon.

He’s going to make some lucky girl a wonderful boyfriend and husband someday.