Story 1:

My mom had me at 17 and gave me up. At 20, I found her, but she said, ’’Forget about me! My husband is a powerful man, and he’d leave me if he knew about you.’’ A year later, her husband tracked me down and showed up at my door with teary eyes. My entire reality shifted as he revealed that everything my mother told me that day was a complete lie.
He explained that he overheard a secret conversation between my mother and her mother, where he discovered she had a daughter. When he confronted her, urging her to reconnect with me, she refused and coldly claimed I was ’’de:ad to her.’’ Determined to find me, he hired an investigator and eventually located me. He wanted to meet his wife’s first child.
The truth hit me so hard I started to tremble. Then, a few moments later, I froze in total sh0ck as he handed me a large envelope. Inside were photos of their two daughters—my half-sisters, whom I never knew existed. Along with the photos, he had included a significant amount of money, knowing I desperately needed it.
I hugged him, tears streaming down my face. He told me that while my mother still refuses to see me, I am welcome to visit anytime to meet my sisters. What he did was one of the kindest gestures anyone has ever shown me. At that moment, he made me feel what it means to have a father, even though I never knew my own.

Story 2:

Story 3:�

Story 4:�

When I broke my ankle, every single person who saw me on the ground just looked at me and walked on. It was really strange to experience. One guy, though, saw me, brought his whole truck around, and offered to take me to the hospital.
There was already an ambulance coming, so I declined, but he sat there with me, talked to me, and told me it was going to be okay. He really stands out in my memory. Almost ten people walked by and minded their own business while I was on the ground, but he came up and helped. I really hope he’s doing okay.

Story 5:�

In my hometown, we have fruit stands outside the wet market. I was with my mom buying fruits for our family when an old, skinny homeless man walked up to the same stall we were at. He started looking at some fruits, particularly the bananas.
My mom told the man to take the bundle of bananas he wanted, and she said she’d pay for them. He said thank you, took the bundle, and left. It was a small thing—just a small amount of bananas—but I still think about that almost 10 years later. What my mom did really shaped who I want to be.