I’m a big old sap and get all teary-eyed at stories like this. The easter egg one made my eyes water and my nose run. Luckily, I now work at home and no longer have to explain to others why I’m crying at work… 
I dropped my wallet in a taxicab once, the next passenger turned it into the driver.
The driver called me within the hour and came back to return it to me. The contents of the wallet had my name and address but no phone number so he had to do some work to find me.
I was in line at the grocery this weekend when the guy in line ahead of me was taking a sliced loaf of specialty bread from his cart to but on the belt when the bag came open, dropping the slices into his cart…he was attempting to pick them up and get them back in the bag without much luck.
Since I knew the store well and knew where he had gotten this bread, I tapped him on the shoulder and said " Do you want me to run and get you another one?". He said yes and I left my cart and grabbed another loaf of sliced bread from the bakery and bought it back to him.
And another time recently I was in line at Mcdonalds and the guy in front of me had ordered something from the dollar menu but he only had a dollar, not the $1.08 with tax, the checkout girl was one that is a real bitch and she just kept telling the guy to take it up with “her” and pointing to a manger on the other side of the store. aThe guy didn’t speak much English and was confused so I handed him a dime
The MMPers will tell the rest of you what a mean ol’ bastard I am. 
The latest encounter where the the denzens of the VunderLair were on the receiving end was 3 weeks ago today, when VWife went head over heels down the steps of the front porch, a 4 foot fall and 6 steps to hit on the way down. She was laying in the front yard for an undetermined amount of time in 30 deg F weather, in a robe and slippers.
The neighbor across the road spotted her about the same time as 2 constuction guys driving by saw her. Both came to her aid; the neighbor couldn’t do much because he’s old and infirm, but he did get the 911 call made. The other 2 construction guys got her a blanket, called me, and rounded up our 2 dogs who were running loose. One dog bit one guy.
VWife went to the hospital, transported by the same rescue squad I run with, and several of my fellow squad members who were not on duty came to help.
We were grateful to all, but singled out the 2 construction guys because of the bite. The bitten guy blew it off because it wasn’t bad, but to show gratitude, we got both thank you cards with included Hooters gift cards to buy them dinner.
Well, he’s a millionaire, so a $100 tip is probably small change to him, but to a Waffle House server, it’s a huge deal. I guess it’s like that episode of ER I saw once, where Carter paid for Abby’s medical school education so she could get her degree. As he explained it to her, he made more money standing there talking to her than she would in her entire life. I know some see that as arrogant, but I don’t. $25 or $50 is not that much to me, but it could make a huge difference to someone else. So the difference between Carter and me is a matter of degree.
I always try to tip very well when I’m dining alone. I figure I’m taking up a table but not eating a lot for a server to earn a tip like they would on a four-top. So, if I can leave a $9 tip on an $11 tab, it makes me feel good, helps out the poor server who’s probably working her way through school, and if I can’t afford $20 for a meal every once in a while, I shouldn’t be going out to eat.
Several years ago, I got into a patch of pea gravel in our Miata, spun it, and whacked into the guardrail hard enough to render the car undriveable. I hiked over to a nearby house and called Mrs. R to come get me, then went back to the car to wait for her.
As I sat there on a guardrail post, feeling a bit woozy (my head had smacked the windshield header hard enough to make a bit goose egg, complete with a bit of blood), at least five separate people stopped and asked if I needed any help. I didn’t, but I surely appreciated the thought.
When my dad died some years back, a few of my friends came down from Madison to Chicago to support me during his wake. I don’t even know how they found it – there was no obit published. It meant a huge amount to me.
So this week, I paid it forward. The brother of one of my friends died, and I found where the visitation was, and I drove up to Green Bay from Madison to be there for her. It felt really good to be doing an unselfish thing, even though doing selfish things usually feels good too.
I was working on a Saturday once and had a rotten day. I was leaving the parking deck and another car drove up and the driver rolled down the window and asked “Do you know where the And- Ch. . . , uh, the Syx – . . .” but I knew what he wanted. He and his wife were due at a wedding at the Greek Church, which is what everybody called it, and they couldn’t find it and she was practically in tears. I give crappy directions, but I knew how to get there. So I just said “follow me.” I pulled out in front of them and drove them there. It was a couple of miles away and when we got there I pulled in the parking lot and waved bye-bye and did a U-turn. My day got better after that. I don’t know if I got them to the church on time, but I got them to the church!
I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. I received so many kind words and wonderful gifts from fellow Dopers, and although I thanked everyone the words cannot convey how much it meant to me.
I have a lot of stories like this. One day, my wallet was stolen out of my car, and I had to pack up my two kids (ages 3 and 1) at the time into the station wagon to go to the DMV to get my license replaced. On the way there, we ran out of gas on the freeway. I did not have a cell phone at the time. I got out and stood by the side of the car, trying to figure out WTF I was going to do now. After about 10 minutes, an old beat-up car pulled up behind me. It was a family that had seen me stranded, got off the exit ramp half a mile down the road, turned around, came back the other direction, and then turned around again to get to us. Not only did they go get a couple of gallons of gas for me in their gas can, but also had lollipops for my kids. It really saved what had been an utterly miserable day.
As for me, there’s some stuff I’d rather not share, but the one I will share is that once, MrWhatsit and I were at a music festival in Seattle, and he bought me one of those giant oversized balloons in the shape of Buttercup, the Power Puff girl. (We didn’t have kids yet. We just liked the Power Puff Girls.) While standing in line for the bathroom later, I saw a little girl, maybe 4 years old, staring at my balloon with wide eyes. So I gave it to her.
I had a stranger be kind to me, but it’s been so many years the details are no longer clear to me. This is what I remember. I was on the freeway in Detroit, heading home, it was night. My car had a failure of some kind involving I think a water hose, it wasn’t just the old steam coming up from under the hood, but anyway I digress. I eventually decide I’m gonna have to get off the freeway and stop. The closest exit is one in a residential area, not one with a nice bright gas station. I’m in the hood, with my hood up Some nice guy offers to help, takes me upstairs to his apartment, I remember him giving me water for my car, maybe some duct tape for a burst hose, and maybe a phone call. What sticks with me was he was concerned for my safety and brought me into his home even though he didn’t know me. I made it home safely thanks to his help.
Years ago, my now-ex-husband and I were in Europe on our three-month honeymoon, doing the typical “backpack and hostel” trip. We had taken what we thought was an adequate amount of money, but miscalculated, so that there were a LOT of days where, of the three things you can do on vacation (sleep somewhere safe, eat food, see the sights), we could only do two of the three, or even one.
Don’t get me wrong, it was a great trip, but there were some tough days, lots of eating one piece of bread all day or sleeping in train stations (the sights were almost never sacrificed).
We were on one of the days where we actually had enough money to eat a little and decided to splurge on an appetizer and one beer split between the two of us, down at the pub near our hostel. The couple sitting next to us struck up a conversation - they were Americans, too. We were all having a great time, when two enormous pizzas landed on our table, along with a pitcher of beer. My husband and I started to correct the waiter, when the couple said “it’s on us.” They said that when their daughter had been traveling around the world back when she was just out of college, many people took care of her, and they were doing the same for us.
I was so hungry and it had been so many days of worrying about money that I just couldn’t speak for several minutes with tears streaming down my face. I remember that often, and do pay it forward in various ways whenever I can.
[sniffle] No, no I’m fine - I just have something in my eye - carry on [/sniffle]
Wow. Just wow. Again, proof that it doesn’t have to be “difficult” to be worthwhile. If they were Americans traveling in Paris, they probably (probably) weren’t short on money, so the cost of two large pizzas and a pitcher of beer wasn’t that big of a thing to them. But to the two of you, it was huge.
I had a somewhat similar experience about a year ago when a friend of mine drove me to the ER. I wasn’t sure if I had a kidney stone or just a really painful infection. My friend stayed with me for as long as she could, but was very busy and eventually had to leave. During our conversation (conversation was quite possible once the IV pain meds kicked in!), I bemoaned the fact that my in-laws were coming that night, and I had no time/energy to fix dinner for them.
When I went to sign out of the ER, 'scripts in hand, I found a note from her: “Order pizza”, along with $60.00 cash. She is the wife of a prominent cardiologist, so I’m sure that’s not a lot of money for her, but it sure meant a lot to me!
This is before cell phones were as popular.
One snowy winter day I was driving in Des Moines. There was lots of snow and ice on the roads. As I was taking an exit I could see the patch of ice that was going to take me out, and it did- I did a full 720 degree spin and flew off the road on to the sloped side- I was oriented parallel with the road but about five feet off and sliding sideways down a 45 degree slope. I slid down about twenty feet and the car came to a halt.
I was about half a mile from the nearest building in two feet of snow on a freezing day. There wasn’t any danger, but all I had on my feet was tennis shoes, and my only jacket was a heavy shirt. I was going to be coooooold by the time I got there to call for a tow truck.
When I had slogged up the hill to the side of the road, there was a car waiting there. The person behind me had pulled over to wait for me. As he put it, “When I came around the bend, you weren’t in front of me! I knew something had happened.”
He gave me a ride to a gas station and kept me warm and dry! And there wasn’t a thing wrong with the car, either. There had been enough snow to cushion the sideways slide that it didn’t hurt the vehicle at all.
gurujulp!
I was wondering who this person was friending me over at SparkPeople…we have a SDMB team over there…come join!
Sorry, hijack over.
Back in 1997 I lived in Baltimore, MD for 2+ years, and played in a basketball game in the DC suburbs about a half hour drive away from where I lived. One time while driving home on I-95 North around 9pm, I saw a car up ahead pulled over on the median with distress blinkers on and a man of about 65 years old peering at his rear tire.
I realized that, for once, I was seeing someone in distress ahead of me (instead of noticing as I passed them by). I was by myself (no wife or kids at the time) and I didn’t have anything else to do that night after getting home other than play Quake, and felt a sudden strong sense of obligation to my fellow man. I pulled over ahead of him and came over to see if I could help. He was pretty well dressed, and so was his wife in the passenger seat, though the car itself was not particularly fancy (some generic GM make of sedan).
He and his wife were on their way out for an evening date, to see a show after having gone out to dinner, when their car blew a flat tire. He had just got out his owner’s manual to find out where the spare tire and jack were in his trunk. I spent about half an hour helping him remove the lug nuts from his wheel, jack up the car and swap on his spare, putting his flat tire in the trunk. Turning the tire jack was pretty tough, and would definitely have been beyond his strength to do so on his own. I even ripped up my hand a little bit while doing so.
After he was good to go, he thanked me profusely and his wife offered me $50 from her purse. I refused it, of course.
Then he said something to me I’ve remembered for a long time: “We were on our way to see <some play or show name with the word Angel in the title>, but found an angel in you instead. God bless you!”
Now I’m not a religious person – I’m basically an atheist, with some Buddhist/Taoist leanings, and certainly not a believer in a “Lord Of All Creation With A Master Plan That Somehow Includes You In It Especially” – but the sincerity in his words deeply moved me. I’ve been told “God bless you” countless times in my life, including by priests and whatnot, but that one time felt like an actual blessing.
I’ve been fortunate enough in my life not to be in a position to be on the receiving side of random kindness or charity very often. As a high school student I often accidentally spent all my cash at a bookstore… Under such circumstances, I have been given bus fare when a little short as a student, and a pizza parlor guy once let me slide on an entire lunch (2 slices and a soda) when I realized I had no cash on me after ordering, but promised to bring it tomorrow (which I did).
I’ve been on both ends, giving and receiving. My most recent incident, I was the “giver”:
I was in NYC, buying a MetroCard (the prepaid electronic card required to use the transit system) from a machine, when I noticed the young man next to me was having a problem – he was trying to purchase a 30-day “unlimited ride” card, which costs $81… and all he had to his name was four $20 bills. I watched him for over a minute as he frantically went through his pockets looking for a spare dollar to complete the transaction, and having absolutely no luck. Everybody else in the station was either unaware of his plight or just plain didn’t care.
I stepped over and slipped a $1 bill into the machine he was using so he could complete his transaction… then I just walked away without saying a word. I didn’t want or need his gratitude (though I’m sure I had it); the feeling I got from “doing a good deed” was more than enough reward for me.
Hi, L
Long time reader, first time poster here.
For me, those ‘little’ moments of gratitude can sometimes be much more powerful.
I work as an Academic Advisor for an online university. I recently assisted a student organize his Master’s program and you’d have thought I saved his only begotten son from drowning.
“Hoop,” he said. “If you lived closer (I work in MN, student lives in GA), I’d invite you to dinner.”
In no way did I doing anything above & beyond, but he was so thankful I was almost embarrassed. I think he’d had a poor experience with someone else before I got to him.
I buy a sandwich or hot dogs for homeless people now and then (not wanting to give them money, which I suspect will go for booze or drugs), and always feel good about it, even if the recipients are not always as thankful as I might like.
When I worked for Legal Aid, I once anonymously sent money to a desperately poor client of mine who would’ve been too proud to accept it if I’d just handed it to her.
I often hold doors open for people wrestling with big packages or who have their arms full.
I keep a dustpan and whiskbroom in my trunk and have been known to sweep up broken glass in parking lots.
I put quarters in other people’s parking meters, or hit the button again for the free 15 minutes, if I see they’re running low.
The world can be a cold, callous place. Anything I can do to make it a little less so is worth the effort.
In my young life, there are two incidents that stand out in my mind.
The first happened when I was only in kindergarten, and the memory is typical of those over 20 years old. (Most of the details are rather fuzzy, however there’s a spotlight on center-stage.) I believe a carton of milk in those days cost 45 cents. I had decided that that day I wanted to chocolate milk. When I got to the cashier in the cafeteria, I was devastated to find out that the total was 55 cents, and I only had two quarters. What else could a five year old do, but break down into tears? The lunch lady immediately came around and gave me a hug and told me not to worry about it.
The second incident was many years later when I was in college. My boyfriend and I were coming back down the turnpike from Scranton towards Philadelphia, when I became noisily, messily ill. At the second rest stop, I was busy being miserable in a bathroom stall when an unknown woman came in a placed a bottle of orange juice under the stall door. She asked if I needed anything, and if I had anyone to help me. I told her I did, and that I would be okay. I must have cradled that bottle all the way down 476 and 276.