I work at a grocery store where, as a bagger and stocker, sometimes I help people take groceries to their cars. I don’t mind doing so because I like taking a breather before going back to work. I never expected anything in return.

A few days ago, a woman I’ve helped a few times stopped me before I went back inside. She gave me $20.

I told her I couldn’t accept it because I didn’t do that much to help her, and she might need it for something later on. She looked a bit sad.

Customer: “Honey, I’ve been shopping here every Thursday afternoon since this store opened. I’ve met so many employees over the past few years, but none… none… have offered to help me load groceries into my car. The cashier usually asks, and then if I say yes, the bagger looks annoyed and does a rushed job. I’ve had crushed bread and broken eggs, and one even stole some sandwich meat from me. However, I’ve heard you ask every customer if they need help to their cars. Usually, they say no, but you at least offer. Take this as a thank you from us old folk and back pay tips from the past few trips. At least let me do this for you. I know this job probably doesn’t pay well right now.”

I didn’t know what to say. She stuffed the $20 in my shirt pocket, patted my chest, and walked to the front of her car. As she got in, she asked me how much the job pays and why I was here.

Me: “$8.25 an hour, but it’ll be $10 by the end of the year. I’m getting my own apartment soon, I’m saving up for a car, and my hobbies cost a pretty penny sometimes. I take every hour I can get.”

She nodded, said to have a good day, and drove off. When I got my new schedule for the next week, I was working every day but Saturday. This was odd, so I asked my manager if something went wrong or if someone quit. He said no.

Manager: “Make sure your apartment is always clean, show me your car when you get it, and if your hobbies are expensive from time to time, let me know when you need more hours to afford them.”

[Customer] asked my manager to give me more hours. I almost cried. I never expected anything in return. I just wanted to save money so I can move out of my mom’s boyfriend’s house and get my life together. Now, that might be easier.

THANK YOU, [CUSTOMER]!

This story is part of our end-of-year Feel Good roundup for 2021!

Read the next Feel Good 2021 story!

Read the Feel Good 2021 roundup!

After school, I decided to head to the gym. Along the drive, I noticed a van stopped in the first lane of the two-lane road with its caution lights on. I turned my car around and parked in the car dealership that was nearby and I ran down to go see if there was anything I could do.

The two occupants rolled down their window revealing an elderly grandmother and presumably her granddaughter in the driver’s seat.

Grandmother: “Our gas gauge is broken, and we ran out of gas!”

Me: “There’s a gas station a few intersections away. I’ll push you there.”

They put the van into neutral and I started to rock the van back and forth and then started to push it down the road.

I got to the first intersection and I was certainly starting to feel it. At this point, another young man dressed in cowboy attire hopped out of his mother’s car and joined in helping me push. We were nearing the gas station when another two men who were working construction nearby hopped in to help push, as well. With four fellas pushing, the going was easy and we soon got them parked next to a gas pump.

The granddaughter got out of the vehicle, thanked us all, and tried to give us some money but we told her to instead just fill up the van. I shook each man’s hand and thanked them for joining in.

As I walked back to my truck, I smiled nearly the whole way, glad to see the community snowball effect of goodness that I had just witnessed. To see others go out of their way to help someone in need really warmed my heart and restored my faith in humanity, even if it was just a little!

I checked in a guest who is sweet right off the bat. She tells me about her life and how she is a foster mother and how she has adopted most of her children. I gush over her and her inspiring life choices, and then she thanks me and leaves to get settled in.

While this is transpiring, another guest I checked in earlier comes up to the desk looking upset. I know exactly why. When she was checking in, she lied about how many people were in her room and my manager caught them. They were told about our capacity limit per room and how they would have to purchase another room if they wanted to stay. She has two adults and six children but our cap is five people for regular rooms and six for suites.

I release the hold on her card and cancel her reservation. I apologize and reiterate that I have to follow policy. She leaves, looking defeated.

Ten minutes later, the sweet foster mother walks up to the front desk.

Me: “Hey! Welcome back. What can I do for you?”

Guest: “Do you all have any adjoining rooms available?”

Me: “I’d have to check, but we should.”

Guest: “Great. If you do, I’d like to buy a room for the lady that just left with all of those kids.”

Me: “That is the sweetest thing. You don’t have to do that, but you are welcome to if you’d like.”

She left and went outside to tell the mother of the six kids that she could pay for the room while I stayed standing dumbstruck at the desk.

They came back in and asked for the price of the rooms. I let the kind guest know that she would be responsible for any extra charges and fees accrued if the room was trashed and that I could continue with the reservation process if she was comfortable and understood this. She agreed and we continued.

The mother of six, I could tell, felt so grateful. She said she wanted to celebrate her son’s birthday but it’s hard to find places that accept that many people. It made my night, her night, and her kid’s night. They only wanted to swim and enjoy a five-year-old’s birthday. The room didn’t end up trashed, either.

It may not seem like much, but the kindness of a stranger after a dumpster fire year really made me feel like there is hope for us all yet.

I work in a call center for a big financial institution in the resolution group. I have to call this guy because his check is too low. He’s very frustrated by the unsolicited call. I give him my usual spiel to call back through the main customer service line and ask for me. Per his account, he’s elderly, and per my short interaction, likely a little hard of hearing.

He gets back through and screams at me for a while. No big deal — I’m used to that. I let him get it out.

Me: “Okay, sir, here’s why I’m calling. Your check is too short.”

I explain what could happen if he doesn’t remedy the situation.

Me: “We just need an extra [amount]. It needs to be a new check for the entire amount. We’ll return your first check.”

This results in a bunch of nonsensical yelling. He also can’t hear me well. Finally:

Customer: “I can’t write that small! Look, I tried to write the full amount, but I can’t write that small anymore!”

Okay, now we were at the root of the problem. Poor guy.

We discussed options. Could he get to the bank to have a check printed? Yup! Okay, let’s do that.

He got to the bank later that week and called me in a panic. There was a bank fee to have the check printed and he’s on a fixed income. I told him we’d cover it; he just had to save and send in proof of the fee.

He sent the check to my group’s mailing address which auto-sorted it to our specialty processing group. It was picked up by my favorite ol’ reliable processor and the bank fee was reimbursed.

In our group, we handled cases from beginning to end, so he could call me whenever he wanted. Obviously, he was very concerned about tax implications, so he called me maybe three times in the week it took to receive the check and process it. He was a nice old man — quite pleasant, actually.

That Christmas, my boss walked up with a silly grin. He had an envelope in his hand. In the envelope was a Christmas card with a developed photo of a pretty flower and a note from my favorite client wishing me a merry Christmas. He wanted to show me the flower in his garden. It’s been eight years since that interaction, and I’ll never throw that card and photo out. It meant a lot.

I was listening to Boston as I pulled up to a house to make a pizza delivery. The customer was an old dude who told me he liked my taste in music. He handed me $20 for a tip.

Me: “Man, are you sure? You just made my night!”

Customer: “Here, let me really make it.

And he gave me another $20!

So, advice for other drivers: listen to mainstream classic rock and old people will probably tip better and like you better. I had another guy comment about me playing RUSH and I got like $8 from him.