(My period has hit me like a truck one day and I’m making my way towards the train station to get home. It’s becoming very hard to even stand, much less walk straight and I sit down to take break, but I’m obviously in pain. A woman stops to ask what’s wrong and, when I explain, goes off to get some painkillers for me. Unfortunately, my stomach decides that the source of the pain must be the poison I just drank and throws it right up.)

Woman: “Oh, dear! You know what? I’ll call my daughter and she’ll give you a ride home. Just stay here a moment!”

(Her daughter drove me all the way home and talked very kindly to me so I could relax but still give some directions. Despite it being a miserable day, I remember it very fondly.)

(A group of friends and I travel to New Hampshire to campaign for a political candidate. We are sleeping on the floor of a community center in a tiny town with very few food options, and since we’ve traveled with a group from our school, none of us have access to a car. After a long day of knocking on doors in the snow, we desperately try to find a restaurant that delivers, to no avail. We set out to the nearest place we can find, which is about a 20-minute walk. We get there at least a few minutes before the stated closing time, but there is already a woman sweeping the front entrance, so I know they are done for the night. Since I work in foodservice and hate people who demand complicated meals right before we close, I tell my friends we should just go home. Then, the woman opens the door and motions us in out of the cold.)

Woman: “What can I do for you all?”

Me: “I’m really sorry; I know you’re trying to close. We were just looking for a place to get something to eat.”

Woman: “I’m afraid our kitchen is closed, but I can get you guys some drinks from the bar while you warm up.”

Me: “You’re very kind, but we’re really hungry, and since we’re all under 21, I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Woman: “Most of the places in town are closed, but there’s a Mexican place about a 10-minute drive from here that’s open for another hour. Do you have a car?”

Me: “No, but thanks for the suggestion. We can walk or take a cab.”

Woman: “Don’t be silly; I’ll give you guys a lift.”

(Before we can say anything, she takes her apron off, runs to the kitchen, and comes back with her purse and keys. She ends up driving us to the restaurant in her minivan. During the conversation that follows, we find out that she owns the restaurant, and she is also working as a nurse because she doesn’t make enough from the restaurant to pay the bills. She also has a daughter in college, about our age. During the ride, we all pool our cash and try to pay her for her time and gas.)

Woman: “Absolutely not. You kids just make sure to pay it forward someday.”

(I will probably never see this woman again, but I think of her all the time and the kindness she showed us.)

This story is part of our Pay It Forward roundup!

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Read the Pay It Forward roundup!

(I’m a college student traveling from my home in North Carolina back to school in Pennsylvania after Thanksgiving break. Due to poor weather conditions and cancelled flights I’ve had a terrible travel day. Instead of going from NC to D.C. to Allentown, I’ve flown from NC to Cincinnati to Newark and then taken a shuttle from Newark back to Allentown. By the time I arrive at the Allentown airport on the last incoming flight of the day it is well after midnight. I don’t have a car in the lot, as I was planning on taking a taxi back to the college campus. The airport has technically shut down. After waiting about half an hour at baggage claim, it becomes apparent that my bags haven’t made the trip with me, so I go to the customer service counter for help. I ring the bell at the counter for service. The woman who comes up is wearing a hi-vis vest and is clearly not normally in this position. There are no other employees or travelers in the ticket counter area at all.)

Me: “I’m trying to figure out what happened to my luggage. I just flew in from North Carolina.”

Employee: “Okay, I need to fill out this form with your contact information and describe your bags for me.”

(She asks me my name, my flight number, and some other pieces of information, then asks about the bags again. As I speak, she’s slowly entering information into the computer, causing me to have to repeat myself several times to make sure it’s all correct.)

Employee: “Do you know what brand they were?”

(I don’t know, and I burst into exhausted tears at the question.)

Me: “No, I don’t! I’ve been traveling since seven am. It’s very late and I’m so tired I can barely remember my own name. I just want to get back to my dorm room so I can go to bed. I can’t call any friends to drive me because it’s too late at night. I was going to take a cab but there are no cabs left because the airport is closed. I don’t even know how I’m going to get back!”

(The woman looks me up and down.)

Employee: “Where do you go to school?”

Me: “[College].”

Employee: “Oh, my sister goes there! How about I take you? My shift ends in about 15 minutes and I’ll be driving right past anyway.”

(I didn’t have any shared classes or other connection to her sister, but she still drove me back and wouldn’t accept anything for the trouble. It was still an awful day, and I never did get one of those cases back, but she made it much better just by being kind.)

(I’ve been pinching pennies for months. My house in a town three hours away has been listed for sale for five months and I’m living in a tiny rental room near my new job, so I’m paying for my house, taxes, bills, plus a rental, and finances are tight. I found out a few days before that my transmission needs to be fixed for $2700 or replaced for $3500. This bill will cripple my finances at this time. I am at a dealership service department.)

Me: “I’m here to drop off my car for an inspection; I’m really really hoping it’s covered under warranty. Can you call me if the bill is going to go over $100?”

Serviceman: “Yes, we sure can. If the repair turns out to be under warranty then the inspection is covered, too. If not then the inspection fee is less than $100 for sure.”

(Six hours later…)

Serviceman: “Hi there, has your car had any work on it in the past on the transmission?”

Me: “Yes, there was a fix to the axle or something in January. I’m sorry; I don’t remember all the details anymore, though.”

Serviceman: “Did you pay for that work? Where did you get it done?”

Me: “In [Other Auto Repair Shop].”

Serviceman: “Well, they used the wrong part and that fix would have been covered under your warranty, so I’m going to cover this whole mess under your warranty so it won’t cost you anything else.”

(He couldn’t have been nicer about it! I’ll be taking them some freshly-baked treats when I get my car back later this week!)

(I’ve received a notice that the local post office is holding a piece of mail for me. As it’s right down the street from where I live I run over after getting home for the day, finding a queue has expectedly already formed. I get in line, and wait till it’s my turn.)

Post Office Employee: “Hey, just so you know, there’s a five pound import fee due on this.”

Me: “Really?”

Post Office Employee: “Yes, looks like it was shipped from overseas so you must claim on it.”

Me: “Uh… well, do you accept cards? I don’t have any actual cash on me right now.”

Post Office Employee: “Sorry, mate, only coins or notes. You can always come back later to pick this up if you want.”

Me: “Right… well, I do apologise for wasting your time, and yours.” *gesture to the folk still waiting behind me*

(Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder.)

Man Behind Me: “Here, I’ve got this. Save yourself having to come back here.”

(He hands the employee a fiver and I thus get my package.)

Me: “Uh… wow, that was very kind of you! I… don’t know what to say!”

Man Behind Me: “Think nothing of it. Believe it or not, you’re the first young person I’ve seen today that’s behaved themselves, dressed sensibly, and isn’t trying to buy smokes or filthy p*rnographic material.”

Me: “Yeah… uh… right. Well, again, thank you.”

(I promptly left, feeling absolutely terrible about the fact that my package, which the man paid for, in fact contained two packs of an exotic brand of cigars that weren’t available in the UK. Needless to say it was one of the reasons I gave up smoking as I grew older.)