Moving to New York City at 18 was a huge change for me, especially coming from a small Southern town. I found myself standing at a subway ticket machine, feeling completely lost and overwhelmed. As I fumbled with the machine, a line of impatient commuters formed behind me, and my anxiety skyrocketed, making me tear up.
That’s when a kind man stepped forward, stopping the line. He patiently walked me through how to use the machine and even bought me a 12-ride card. His words, “Next time someone yells at you, just yell back,” made me feel less alone and reminded me that kindness can still exist in the hustle and bustle of a big city.
When I was twelve, my cousins and I were at a bookstore, excitedly reading our new books, when an elderly man approached us. After watching us for a while, he returned with three \$20 gift cards, telling us he loved seeing kids read. His unexpected kindness moved me to tears and showed me the power of small, thoughtful gestures.
Years later, I ran out of gas on my way home from work and felt stranded. But three people stopped to help me. One man returned with a full gas can, and an undercover police officer helped push my car to safety. Their kindness reminded me that even in difficult situations, there are always people willing to help—and I’ll forever be grateful for their support.
