![]() – 20Jennifer Garcia-Esquivel, San Benito, Texas. All of them had encouraging messages: “Keep moving forward,” “Don’t give up on God,” and “Know that we love you.” It was exactly what I needed. Glued to the wall were a hundred colored paper butterflies, each with a handwritten message on it from current and past students. This past May, after four weeks of recovering, I walked into my empty classroom and turned on the lights. I’m a middle school teacher and didn’t know how I could face kids. As the days went on, I was nervous about returning to work. I was four months pregnant with our first child when our baby’s heart stopped beating. She said, “I had a feeling it would help.” – Nadine Chandler, Winthrop, Massachusetts. ![]() Later, I asked my neighbor why she had enclosed the money. I pulled the card out of the envelope, and $100 dropped out-just enough to get me through the remainder of my trip. ![]() ![]() That’s when I noticed the unopened farewell card my neighbor had shoved in my hand as I left. What began as a fun adventure turned into a nightmare when I realized I had run through most of my money and still had a ways to go. I was driving cross-country to start a new job. – Douglas Hunter, Fort Walton Beach, Florida. Better safe than sorry.” That kind act gave me the confidence to be one of the top gunners in my squadron. “Sergeant Hunter,” he said, “you keep calling them like you see them. Back at the base, my commander put an arm around my shoulder. Suffice it to say, the guys weren’t pleased. Well, turns out the “missile” was a flare we had just dropped. The pilot jerked the airplane as hard as he could, dumping guys from one side of the craft to the next. “Missile! Missile!” I shouted into my interphone. I was scanning for enemy fire when I spotted a bright object that looked as if it were coming straight at us. It was one of my first missions on a gunship during the Vietnam War. Take-home message: Kindness has no limits and no restrictions. Then Jimmy got into his car and took off as well. “My cancer didn’t tell me not to help others, Doc,” he said, before waving at the old man to start the car. “Jimmy, what are you doing?” I yelled out. Just then, I noticed an elderly gentleman handing tools to someone working under his stalled car. As I walked through the parking lot, all I could think about was the dire diagnosis I had handed my patient Jimmy: pancreatic cancer. “I promised myself that I would repay the kindness so many had shown me.” She paid for the dress, and the only payment she would accept in return was a heartfelt hug. “I’m no longer homeless, and my situation has improved,” she said. She’d been homeless for three years, she said, and had it not been for the kindness of strangers, she would not have been able to survive. Then she told me why it was so important for her to help me. “Thank you, but I can’t accept such a gracious gift,” I said. “May I buy the dress for you?” asked another customer. But money was tight, so I asked the store owner if she could hold it for me. I saw a dress in a consignment shop that I knew my granddaughter would love. “I’ve noticed you’re getting a little skinny,” he said. It was my neighbor, a retired chief petty officer, holding a breadboard loaded with a freshly cooked chicken and vegetable stew. I was balancing caring for a toddler and working a full-time job, all while my Navy husband was on extended duty overseas. Then, like a cowboy in the movies, he rode off into the sunset. “Let’s just say I needed the exercise,” he said. I offered him some money, but he refused. “Call your wife and tell her I’m coming to get her key.” “That’s seven miles round trip.” “Don’t worry about it.” An hour later, he returned with the key. “But even if I could call my wife,” I said, “she can’t bring me her car key, since this is our only car.” He handed me his cell phone. A teenager riding his bike saw me kick a tire and say a few choice words. Leaving a store, I returned to my car only to find that I’d locked my keys and cell phone inside. Not only had he kept them for me, but he’d looked up my return date and time in order to meet me. When I returned a week later, an attendant was at the baggage area with my paints. I forgot about the rules on liquids in carry-on luggage, so when I hit security at the airport, I had to give up all my painting supplies. It is my mother’s flowers.” – Leslie Wagner, Peel, Arkansas. She demanded that I do something else with that money. I went this morning, and she got mad at me for spending my money on more flowers. I visit her every day and bring her flowers. “My mother is in the hospital with cancer. “Please don’t put yourself out,” I told him. I began to remove items from the bags, when another shopper handed me a $20 bill. When the supermarket clerk tallied up my groceries, I was $12 over what I had on me.
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