(I am six years old, and my dad gives me a $20 bill so that I can go buy a smoothie. The guy made my smoothie (which is $3 or so) and I give him the $20 bill.)

Me: “Keep the change!”

(I had recently heard someone say that and I was too young to realize that telling someone to keep $17 of change wasn’t normal. I got yelled at by my dad but I still remember how happy that guy looked.)

CONTENT WARNING: Animal Death (Natural Causes)

When I was nineteen I had just moved into my first apartment. I got a kitten from a friend’s cat that had kittens. I suffered from severe (suicidal) depression at the time, barely leaving the house or doing anything. Once I had a kitten to care for, I had a lot more motivation to care for myself. It was a huge step in getting myself into therapy and recovering. No matter how bad things got, I always had my baby kitty who always loved me. She lives with me for eighteen years in reasonably good health but eventually, her kidneys give out and it is her time.

Unfortunately, I have just lost my job and we are pretty broke. As we are long-time, reliable clients of the vet, they agree to let us pay in installments. I sell some crafts I make online so I make social media posts promoting my craft site to help cover the costs of my baby kitty’s euthanasia and cremation. About a week later of stressful, sad job-hunting and desperate crafting, I get a phone call from the vet:

Vet: “I have some news for you.”

Me: *confused* “Okay…”

Vet: “Someone called in and anonymously paid your bill.”

Me: “What…?”

Vet: “They made us swear to keep it anonymous, but your entire vet bill has been cleared up. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Me: *sobbing uncontrollably*

I don’t think I will ever be able to thank that anonymous donor enough. My kitty was a literal lifesaver. Losing her (even after having her for eighteen years) was crushing to me. I worried the stress was going to push me back into the depression again, but this act of kindness brought me back. Thank you.

(It’s the beginning of December. My family is travelling through California on our way to a famous theme park and have stopped at a fast food place for dinner. It’s dark and my father and I are taking our time getting out of the car while my sister and mother head in when a lady holding a box approaches us.)

Lady: “Hey, I don’t mean to bother you guys, but I’ve recently lost my job and so has my daughter. Our rent’s coming up so we made some jewelry.”

(She pauses, starting to get emotional.)

Lady: “Sorry, I’ve never done this; I just don’t feel like I have any other option. I understand if you want me to leave.”

(I exchange a glance with my dad.)

Me: “No, no, it’s totally fine! Unfortunately I don’t have any cash on me. Is there anything else we can do to help though?” *half-jokingly* “Do you need a hug?”

(To my surprise she starts crying and says yes, so I do my best to give her the most comforting hug ever.)

Lady: “Thank you so much. Tell you what, I have some bumper stickers in my car. You’re not from here right? I’ll give you one for free.”

(She headed to her car with her box of jewelry and my father and I went to follow when I remembered I had a little pouch with at least $5 in quarters for laundry. I grabbed that and headed over. When I tried to give it to her, she at first refused, saying the hug was enough. Then we decided I was paying $3 for the bumper sticker she would have normally sold for $1. We went inside and ate, telling my mom and sister about her. She was still there when we left and my dad remembered he had a $20 bill, so the whole family came over and my mom picked out a beautiful hand beaded necklace and earring set and my little sister bought a bumper sticker for $2. My mom gave her a hug, too, and we wished each other well in job searches. We never exchanged names, but I hope you and your family are doing well! I didn’t get a job but I’m going to college instead, and am doing fine living with my parents.)

(I have just paid off my car loan and closed the account when I notice a sign by the teller’s window.)

Me: “Oh, hey, you’re selling discount tickets to [Theme Park]? Could I buy two of those?”

Teller: “I’m sorry, no. Those are for account holders only. Would you like to open an account?”

Me: “Uh. No, thanks.”

(The other tellers looks appalled that she wouldn’t sell me the tickets literally 10 seconds after closing my account, but she wouldn’t budge!)

(I order a free credit report from one of several companies in Canada. When I receive the report, it is very obvious that they have mixed my report with another person’s, so I call them to inquire. Understandably, they have to ask several security questions to ascertain my identity.)

Company Rep: “Can I have your age?”

Me: “I’m 55.”

Company Rep: “That’s not correct.”

Me: “I’m 55. How can it not be correct?”

Company Rep: “The forms say you must be between 66 and 72.”

Me: “I cannot be between those ages; I know for certain that I am 55.”

Company Rep: “I’m sorry, but that’s what the forms say.”

Me: “Do the forms not have my date of birth?”

Company Rep: “Yes, they do.”

Me: “And I was born in 1956, correct?”

Company Rep: “That’s correct.”

Me: “And it’s now 2011. 2011 – 1956 = 55, would you not agree?”

Company Rep: “Yes, but the paperwork says you have to be between 66 and 72.”

Me: “So you can’t figure out for yourself that the paperwork that your company has generated has made a mistake. Not only do you have my credit report mixed up with someone else’s, but you can’t do a simple bit of math and see that your answer is wrong?”

Company Rep: “I’m sorry. sir, but your age has to be between 66 and 72?”

Me: “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” *hangs up*