I’ve got a pair of regular customers who are just absolutely adorable: a father and his little girl. Their usual order is a small cheese pizza for the little one.

One day, the father called in and ordered his daughter’s usual pizza. He then asked if we had mushrooms, intending to order a second pizza for himself that day. However, the little girl overheard the dreaded M-word uttered from her father’s mouth. From my end of the phone, I heard this typically angelic child absolutely melt down crying at the thought of having mushrooms on her pizza, not understanding at all that it was never for her. Her father interrupted himself upon hearing this, as he is absolutely wrapped around this girl’s sweet little finger, and told me never mind the second pizza.

That is when I knew what I had to do. I prepared two pizzas: one mushroom and one cheese. I paid for the mushroom one myself.

They came in, I handed them both pizzas, and this man started absolutely sobbing in my lobby. Apparently, they were tight on money this month, and this was the act of kindness that turned his whole outlook around.

He thanked me profusely, and a few weeks later came back with a teddy bear and flowers for me, all smiles. This time, it was my turn to cry, as customers had been berating me all week and I was beginning to feel really underappreciated. 

They come back regularly still, and his girl is just as sweet as ever — no tears. They’re still some of my favorite customers in my fifteen years of pizza.

This was during the global health crisis. I was (and still am) living with my grandparents, and due to life difficulties that are outside the scope of this story, dependent on them. I had come out to them as nonbinary a year before, and though it confused them, it was never in a way they refused to accept.

No better was this shown than during this story.

I’m a walking bane to chargers and earbuds and am regularly forced to ask my grandparents to buy me more. I don’t know why; I’m not even rough with them! But anyway, after I asked for one, I popped into their Amazon account just to see how long it would take to arrive.

What I saw in addition was a mask. It was not just any mask; it had “THEY/THEM” emblazoned proudly on the front, in the colors of the nonbinary flag.

I hadn’t asked for it. They had meant to surprise me with this.

I broke the news that I’d found out when I got it, and they were a little disappointed, but I wore it everywhere while masks were still necessary.

If you take any moral away from this story, it’s that anyone can be accepting of identities — even grandparents who are over seventy years old.

My coworker announced that she was pregnant with her third child. This would be my first time working with her while she was pregnant, so when the discussion came about whether we should pool together our money for some baby gifts, I was excited and was all in. We also decided to turn it into a small party, and we would each make a dish for lunch.

The tricky part of this is my coworker is allergic to many things — dairy, gluten, shellfish, tree nuts, tomatoes, certain fruits, and many more things. We have talked about her allergies before when discussing what to get for takeout lunches, but we hadn’t committed the list to memory. Over the course of two or three weeks, we would try to have her allergies naturally come into conversation, and someone not talking to her would write down the good foods and the bad foods. When we were pretty confident that we had gotten enough, we shared the list with everyone in the office.

The day of the party arrived, and we set up the table while my coworker was on her morning break. When she came back, we led her to the table, and she was surprised by all of the gifts. Once she opened the gifts, we started to bring out lunch. We went around the room explaining our dishes and what ingredients were included and/or excluded. She realized we had all made the dishes specifically to fit with her diet, and she burst into tears, saying that it was one of the nicest things that had happened to her.

It was a rewarding feeling, to be able to do something so small as make lunch for someone and get that reaction.

Going forward, we don’t make everything without her allergens, but we do make sure there are at least a few dishes she can have, and we prevent cross-contamination whenever possible.

Dear readers,

Everyone can use a little pick-me-up from time to time. Paying bills, studying for tests, supporting loved ones in need, that weird noise your car just started making… it can all be a lot. And all of that is happening while economic and political problems loom overhead. Sometimes, you just need a reason to smile.

We’ve dug into the Inspirational tag of the Not Always Right archives to find 18 stories that made us smile, and we’ve made this roundup to pass those smiles on to you. We hope they make your day a little brighter!

Card It Forward – BRB, getting some “business cards” printed…

Society Is Transitioning – Hits from The Fresh Prince Of Bel-Air: “He a little confused, but he got the spirit.”

Be Glad You Bothered – To the person in this story, and to the person reading this: we’re glad you’re still around.

(more…)

I work at a tiny kiosk that sells convenience items like snacks, magazines, drinks, etc. We’re located next to a bus stop that gets us a decent amount of traffic.

For the last few weeks, at specific times throughout the week, I have noticed two women at the bus stop at the same time. They’re a little older, wearing very nice coats and large puffy hats, even though it’s a little warm.

Since in my part of the US, buses are unreliable and irregular, they can sometimes be sat there for over half an hour, so I decide to strike up a conversation with them.

Me: “Wow, ladies, I just wanted to say that I love how you rock those fabulous hats! I’ve seen you here for a few weeks now, and every week it’s so impressive.”

They both smile at me and thank me for my kind words. They both start talking among themselves, keeping me included.

Old Lady #1: “I’m lucky my husband bought me such nice hats on our travels. You see, I take this bus each week to go to the hospital because…”

She takes off her hat to reveal a bald head.

Old Lady #1: “…I’m doing the chemo. I’m a bit self-conscious.”

Old Lady #2: *Eyes go wide* “Oh, my God!”

She takes off her hat, also revealing a bald head.

Old Lady #2: “Me, too! Are you with Dr. [Name]?”

Old Lady #1: “Yes! I am! How have I not seen you before?”

Old Lady #2: “I usually try to keep my head down when I go in. Some weeks I feel really terrible and I don’t really pay attention to my surroundings.”

Old Lady #1: “Yes, it’s the same with me!”

They carry on like this, comparing “chemo notes” and chatting away, so intently involved in their conversation that I have to shout to them that their bus has arrived.

The next week, they’re both back, except they’ve arrived together and their conversation sounds like it hasn’t stopped since the previous week. They’re making in-jokes, talking about their late husbands, their children and grandchildren, etc. Finally, they remember I am there!

Old Lady #1: “Oh, goodness! What’s your name, dear?”

Me: “Oh, it’s Mary.”

Old Lady #2: “Mary! Thank you for complimenting our hats! If you hadn’t said anything, we wouldn’t have made friends like we have!”

Old Lady #1: “It makes so much difference having someone to go through this with together.”

Me: “I’m so happy to hear that! I’m so sorry that you’re both going through what you’re going through. If there’s anything I can do for you, please do let me know.”

Every week they’re back, and every week they’re happily discussing all manner of subjects under the sun, keeping me included. Some weeks seem harder than others (chemo takes its toll on you), but they both always seem to have energy for each other.

One week, I don’t see either of them. The next week is the same, and I eventually start to fear the worst.

After a couple of months, I see a car pull up, driven by a young man. Two old ladies get out of the back of the car and run over to me, full of smiles and energy, and showing hair!

Old Lady #1: “We wanted to come by and let you know we’re both okay!

Old Lady #2: “And we’re both off the chemo!”

Old Lady #1: “Our doctor said we both showed remarkable improvement when we started to talk to each other!”

Old Lady #2: “Those were his exact words! ‘Remarkable improvement.'”

Old Lady #1: “We both went to each other’s appointment together! You should have seen the look on his face!”

Old Lady #2: “They say a positive mindset can be a powerful healer! I’m not sure if that’s true, but it feels like it was with us!”

Old Lady #1: “We’re both in remission! Together! We wanted to thank you!”

Me: “Thank me? But I didn’t do anything!”

Old Lady #1: “Have you not been paying attention? You introduced us to each other!”

Old Lady #2: “You saved our lives!”

Old Lady #1: “We wanted to let you know! We may not need to use the bus anymore, but we’ll never forget you! We beat cancer and got a new best friend because of you!”

And with that, they both hand over a gift. It’s a new and beautiful hat, very similar to the one that [Old Lady #1] was wearing that day I started up a conversation.

Old Lady #1: “Remember us every time you wear that hat!”

They drove off, as happy and as talkative as I have ever seen them, with a smile beaming from my face.

Every time I am having a bad day, I look at my lovely hat and remember what came out from just a simple compliment while working at a kiosk one day, and it never fails to lift me back up again.