(I have dark curly hair, and always wear a hat — I’m Quaker — so I am sometimes assumed to be Jewish. One December day I’m at our service counter, and a client wearing a hijab comes up to me.)

Me: “Salaam aleikum.”

Client: “Aleikum salaam.”

(We transact her business, and she thanks me.)

Client: “Happy Hanukkah!”

Me: *smile* “‘Merry Christmas’ for me, actually.”

Client: *startled, but smiles* “Merry Christmas, then.”

(I love multiculturalism.)

I was out in town with my friend, when she started complaining that she felt tired, and asking if could we head back home. While waiting for food before our taxi home, she began being sick, and repeatedly just saying how tired she was.

She fell down and bumped her head, so we couldn’t take any chances with her drowsiness. One very kind passer-by stayed with us, cancelled our taxi, called an ambulance, and waited on the phone with them, keeping my friend awake and asking questions to be able to ascertain her consciousness level.

She then came with us to the hospital, and stayed with us until my friend had been seen and assessed by a doctor. She gave up her night out and left her friends to stay with two very drunk girls, who were panicking quite a lot. It restored faith in humanity, as many others were just walking past and laughing at the state of my friend, not offering any assistance or help, and basically only telling me that “I needed to get her home” and that I should “look after her better.”

So, thank you, kind stranger, for keeping a level head and providing so much assistance.

(The store where I work is having a charity drive. It’s not a well-known charity, and since it’s summer, people aren’t as prepared to be asked for money as during the Christmas season. Also, we’re required to ask every customer for donations at checkout, so regulars get asked multiple times over the month. Still, people are generous, and we usually get offers of $1 to $3, with an occasional offer of $5, and rarely more. On the last day of the drive, a customer and her daughter, about ten years old, come to my register.)

Me: *ringing her up* “Would you like to donate a few dollars to [Charity] today?”

Customer: “I haven’t heard of that. What is it?”

Me: “It’s a children’s cancer institute near our company’s headquarters.”

Customer’s Daughter: *gasps and looks at me with wide eyes, then looks to her mom*

Me: “We run a charity for them every summer. Each of our stores is supporting a different kid at the institute, and here we’re supporting a little girl named Kate.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s so great.”

Customer’s Daughter: “Mom! Can we donate $100?”

(The customer and I both smile and laugh a little.)

Customer: “No, honey, we can’t give that much.”

Customer’s Daughter: “Well, what about $20? $30?”

Customer: “Here, you can put me for $5.”

(Still a generous amount, considering, and I thanked her and got to announce the donation over the store’s speakers. I’m not sure how that young girl got to be so sensitive about kids in need, but I’m glad she came through my register, and kudos to her for trying!)

Our library has become an after-school hangout for kids and teens, which we encourage with programs and activities. One group of kids in particular have become regulars; they stop by every day after school to check out movies and play games on our computers, and they have a reputation for being loud and somewhat obnoxious.

We have a fairly lax dress-code at work, as well, so one day I’m shelving books while wearing a T-shirt with a video game character on it. Three kids from this group spot my shirt and immediately begin to follow me around asking questions: “Do you play [Game]?” “Which character’s your favorite?” “Can we download [Game] onto the library computers?” “Do you think [Game]’s scary?” I answer questions for a while, then tell the kids I have to go back to work.

The next day, when this group of kids comes in, the three kids who were full of questions the day before come up to me and hand me pieces of paper. Each one of them drew me pictures of the characters from that game as presents. I felt both touched and very guilty for complaining earlier to a co-worker about how obnoxious these kids were.

The pictures are now taped to my desk. And while these kids can still be annoying at times, I know their hearts are in the right place.

CONTENT WARNING: Death

I’m living next door to my grandfather and renting one of the units that he owns. There was a beehive on the property that we were going to hire someone to remove. Unfortunately, before this could happen, the bees ended up swarming. Even worse, I had stepped out to run some errands and was gone longer than I had planned, just over an hour, and had left my two dogs outside. I didn’t realize what was going on until I got out of my car and felt something buzzing around me. I ran into my yard and passed one of my dogs lying there, dead, and the full impact of the situation finally struck me.

Thankfully, I already had my key in hand and managed to get inside while only being stung once. I called 911, but I was trapped inside while the fire department and an exterminator were called out. I was shaken and upset, receiving multiple phone calls from family, and also from a deputy and the battalion fire chief, as my place was difficult to find. I watched everything through my sliding glass doors and was able to speak to the firemen through the glass, letting them know about the dogs.

It was dark when the fire department cleared out and the exterminator came and spoke with me, letting me know that I couldn’t go out because the bees were still active, and that they would have to return in the morning to finish removing the hive. My dogs were still in the yard, and I didn’t want to leave them outside like that all night. I called the battalion chief back to see if any of his crew was still on scene. He told me they had already cleared, but asked me what I needed all the same. I let him know about the dogs and that I was hoping that his crew would be able to pick them up. At first he believed that I meant for the dogs to be taken away altogether and said they could come back in the morning. But when I clarified that I only wanted someone to take them next door to my grandfather’s so that he could bury them, he told me he would see what he could do.

He ended up coming out himself in a truck and protective gear, asked me where the dogs were, and advised me not to watch while he took them away. I later found out he was stung a few times for his troubles, but treated the dogs very gently.

It was a horrible life lesson to learn, and I will always regret not taking the necessary precautions, but I will always be grateful to the battalion chief for going above and beyond.