Life can be tough, but sometimes small acts of kindness remind us that compassion still exists. One memory that shaped me happened when I was thirteen. Coming from poverty, I was stunned when a classmate’s family served a beautiful roast dinner. Embarrassed by how little I had taken, my friend heaped food onto my plate, sensing how much it meant. The next day, her mother visited my home, bringing groceries that filled our fridge. That simple act blossomed into a lasting friendship between our families.
Years later, after completing Basic Training, I nearly missed spending Christmas with my family because of an overbooked flight. A woman in front of me gave up her seat so I could return home to my pregnant wife and father during what turned out to be his final Christmas.
I also remember my father, an oncologist, quietly giving free medicine to poor patients, pretending they were “samples.” And a musician I admired once gifted me an alto flute he no longer needed—just weeks before he passed away.
Each story reminds me that genuine goodness lives in everyday people.
