Driving my van into the Walmart parking lot, I came across a woman crying. She was next to a small sedan with the rear doors open and the trunk open, and a large box containing a futon sitting on the ground next to her. She clearly had come to the conclusion that the large box was not going to fit.

Me: “Not going to fit, huh?”

Woman: “I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

Me: “Can I help?”

Woman: “How?”

I stopped my van and pulled out my Leatherman Squirt (miniature pliers multi-tool) and cut the box open. We loaded it piece by piece into her car, and I put the box in my van to recycle later.

The relief on her face was clear, but I wonder if she ever learned from the moment to not expect a larger piece of furniture to fit into a smaller vehicle. 

My kids were in the van, so I told them this is how you be kind and help people, and all they need to do to make me a proud dad is to do the same.

I was born with cleft lip and palate. I had weak teeth from the day I had a tooth. When I was sixteen, I got in a fight with a man of twenty-three who sank his fist into my face and knocked all of my teeth loose.

I have been told several times that false teeth are not an option, and they would have to break and reset my jaw due to an underbite, then reopen my gums and bolt new teeth to my jawbone. That’s two more surgeries at least. I have had at least twelve already on my face.

I am now thirty-three, soon to be thirty-four, so I have lived half my life with no teeth, using my tongue to push food against my gums to eat. I have a job at a nationwide pharmacy at the front of the store.

 One day, a man I have waited on for over a year comes in. Let’s call him Ricky.

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Store]. How can I help you?”

Ricky: “I’m ready to check out.”

Me: *Scanning items.* “Do you have our rewards card?”

Ricky: “What happened to your teeth?”

Me: “Well, I was born with cleft lip and palate, so I had weak teeth all my life. When I was sixteen, a guy knocked them loose in a fight. The dentists back home say I can’t get dentures because of cleft palate, and surgically screwing teeth to my jawbone was something I really didn’t wanna do.”

Ricky: “Come by my office.” *Writes down address.* “I’ll make you teeth.”

Me: “Yeah, I don’t have the funds or insurance for that. Thanks anyway.”

Ricky: “No, no, you don’t understand. If teeth can be made for you, I will make them and charge you nothing. For free, my friend, you need teeth.”

Me: *Fighting back tears.* “I’ll be there in two days, as that’s my day off. Your total is [total]. Have a great day.”

I had to call line assistance and went to the break room to cry tears of joy and call my wife. As I write this, I’m two appointments away from my teeth, and they said they are trying to get my teeth to me before my birthday in two weeks.

I walked into the hotel where I work one morning at the start of my shift to see a woman going through our garbage.

Me: “Good morning!”

Woman: “I’m sorry. Do you want me to leave? I’m just looking for cans.”

Beer cans in my province can be returned for ten cents per can, and our little property usually has $20-$40 worth per week.

Me: “I’ll tell the owners it’s okay. I’d rather see it get recycled and you get a few bucks than see it just go to the landfill. What’s your name?”

Woman: “It’s Brenda. Thank you, I’ll make sure I clean everything up before I leave!”

I gave her a bag for her cans, and she cleaned up the whole area around the garbage, not just the mess she made sorting.

This week I came in for the morning to find out bins on the ground, garbage everywhere. God d*** it, Brenda, I was being nice, and now I have to clean this up.

I checked the cameras, and it turns out we have a young black bear who is rummaging through our trash. I saw her eat half a pizza, sitting down, as if she belonged here.

I jokingly called the bear “Bad Brenda,” and the name has stuck. I’ll get messages from my general manager:

General Manager: “Bad Brenda was back.”

Can’t really do much about it. Bad Brenda loves her leftover pizza!

My insurance company’s Call A Nurse recommended I go to the ER (urgent care was closed) for a reason that’s irrelevant here. I took only my ID and my insurance card. The ER visit didn’t go well; they made me feel stupid for going for something they thought was minor, even though I said the insurance said to go.

I got out of the ER and decided I needed ice cream to feel better. I went straight to the grocery store, picked up ice cream and three other items to make a sandwich, too.

I went through self-checkout; the total came to $16, and I suddenly realized I had no money to pay. It was absolutely my fault for not paying attention to what I was doing. In my defense, I was in pain and angry/depressed about how I’d been treated at the ER, and it was late (after 10 PM).

I called the store clerk to cancel the order. He came, didn’t say a word, flashed his card, punched a bunch of buttons to put it back to the payment page, and turned to leave before I could say a word. I called him back and said it needed to be cancelled. He sneered, rolled his eyes, and said I hadn’t told him that. I said he hadn’t given me a chance. He cancelled and walked away. 

I admit I was a bit teary-eyed at this point; it was a rotten day. I started to walk away when the lady at the self-checkout beside me asked:

Self-Checkout Customer: “Do you need any help?”

Me: “I picked up a few things before realizing I didn’t have any money with me.”

Self-Checkout Customer: “Let me pay.”

Me: “No, it’s my fault.”

She insisted, and I caved. I probably shouldn’t have, but it wasn’t a lot of money, and I just wanted a sandwich and some ice cream. I thanked her over and over. And, yes, I very much enjoyed my sandwich and my ice cream.

Dear Lady at the grocery store, thank you so much for helping me out on a day that had been so bad up to then. I’ll pay it forward when I can.

I was camping near a ridge that has a beautiful, amazing starscape at night. The local city has an astronomy club that will go up to the ridge on clear nights with some telescopes and teaches visitors about the sky. No fee, just show up, and they’ll show off whatever is visible that night, answer questions, and otherwise share their love of the stars. 

Once there was a clear night, I headed up to the ridge to see what there was to see.

Volunteer: “So, this is a ring nebula… and this one is a veil nebula… check out these double stars…”

Very far overhead, a plane goes by flashing red and green lights.

Visitor: “Ooh, what was that?”

Volunteer: “That was Star System Boeing.”