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Book Concierge
(last edited Dec 24, 2024 07:27AM)
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Dec 23, 2024 12:04PM

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To the lady in line behind me at the grocery store. You had your arms full and I had a large cart with just a few groceries in it, so I offered the "child carrier" section of my cart for your items.
After I had checked out and the cashier began checking you out, you handed me a package of chocolates in thanks for letting you use my cart. I tried to decline but you insisted. So, I accepted and we parted with mutual wishes for a happy holiday.
I didn't realize until I got home that these were chocolate covered cherries.
My mother used to always buy those at Christmas. It's ten years now since she passed on. Your gift brought her home to me this Christmas. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

To the lady in line behind me at the grocery store. You had your arms full and I had a large cart with just a few groceries in it, so I offered the "child carrier" section of my ..."
Awww, I love this story! So heartwarming!

Here’s one that pops to mind that I really like. When we went to visit my parents in Aspen this summer for eight days, we had gone to the farmers market, which is an activity. We all enjoy. My parents being 84 and 90, I forget what they must look like to other people. Because for my entire life, they have looked incredibly young. But anyway, my father saw the bread line and it was just so long. So he’s a charmer, and he started chatting up this lady who gratefully invited them in and saw that it would be good for them not to be standing too much in the sun and helped them cut the line near the front. Anyway, he chatted her up and flirted with her and all the while he’s holding my mother’s hand because she never leaves him for a second. And my husband is watching this whole thing happen and then of course, my father is picking out his breads and baguettes and pastries and Lord knows what. He goes to pay, and this woman had already paid for everything. Their entire load. She had already disappeared before we could even say thank you. I think about that a lot.



Given: A few years ago while out on a walk around the holidays, I saw a living room with a gold star hanging in it. For those that aren't familiar, "gold star moms" are mothers/parents who have lost a child through military combat. I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for small things: lotions, some lip gloss, a holiday CD and some chocolates, and I put them in a basket with a thank you note and a wish to her for a peaceful holiday, and left it on her doorstep during my next day's walk.
Received: On a particularly rough work day and during bad weather to boot, I came home to a hot, homemade pizza made by my neighbor who had been making one for her family and thought we might like one too. It was a "simple" gesture that was far from small in that moment.

We are eternally grateful.
As a note of interest the man who we buy our firewood from is R. Crumb's cousin. If anyone recognizes his comic books from back in the day.

To the lady in line behind me at the grocery store. You had your arms full and I had a large cart with just a few groceries in it, so I offered the "child carrier" section of my ..."
How wonderful. You made me tear up with this story.

Snowstorms really bring out the best in people around here. Yesterday when we got a lot of snow, my husband got out the snowblower and cleared several extra driveways and sidewalks. He’s one of younger men (meaning under 70) who seems to know who needs help the most. Our new neighbors (from India) don’t have a snowblower yet so he did their whole driveway. Soon after she came over with a cake. Another neighbor always makes too much soup and brings around containers of it. There have been many times when I went to bring the trash cans up the driveway, only to find that someone else has already done it.
I like the stories about the drive up lines at the bagel shop nearby (it also happens at Wendy’s and Tim Horton’s). Someone will buy an extra bagel, or frosty, or pay the bill for the person in the car behind them. It sets up a little chain reaction, and people talk about it at work. One little generous impulse can affect more than that one person.

Here's what happened. The photographer called me the day after the event. She explained that she wanted us to go to the synagogue with her to film more pictures. It would be free and her gift to us. The photographer explained that without these pictures, there was nothing to indicate that a religious ceremony had taken place. She generously gave us her time that day and afterwards in developing the pictures. My parents were also featured in them.
The photographer was a stranger to me. She did this out of the goodness of her heart.

When I was working as a social worker in a hospital, my colleagues and I organized a gift giving program for Christmas. Each year, various hospital depts. would volunteer to buy Christmas gifts for needy patient families that the social workers would identify and work with. These depts. could request to be matched with: a large family, a small family, etc.
We social workers would talk with the families and get their wish lists - not promising that they would be fulfilled.
I can't tell you how absolutely generous and thoughtful the gifts were. And, how lovingly wrapped. It was stunning to see. The looks on the families' faces when they saw the wrapped gifts were priceless.
The program kept getting bigger and bigger each year that we did it. It was a lot of extra work for us and full of unplanned aggravations (ie. patients not showing up as planned, etc.) At the end of the day however, it was always worthwhile.





If you've been reading any of the recent posts - especially my long long ones - in the Play Harder discussion thread - about a prompt I got that triggered filling in some of my family - and especially Mom's - history - you know my mother was ill and a semi-invalid during my college years.
When I was a sophomore, I headed home (from NYC Barnard College) the night before Thanksgiving for the holiday on the farm. An hour after I arrived home Mom had a stroke, and when I left to return to school for final exams, she was in a coma (she came out with minimal damage after 5 days - woman was a miracle I tell you). It was clear that I needed to wrap up my exams ASAP and get home to help run the household, deal with Christmas and my younger sisters, while Dad spent most days at the hospital (he'd retired from farming about 4 years earlier). I took my exams all in a 4 day period right after the last class met, which was about 3 weeks earlier than anyone else --though I did get until January to hand in a couple of papers. I gave up reading period basically and having exams spread out over a couple of weeks. I finished my last exam and was leaving on the first bus out of Port Authority headed to Binghamton - the nearest bus depot to the farm. I headed downtown to check out holiday windows, do some shopping, and feeling quite numb. Elizabeth Ashley was starring on Broadway in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and I really wanted to see it - it was getting rave reviews. I decided to go and went first to TKTS (which was new - and fyi tickets were half - price which in those days was about $6 or $8!) but they had no tickets and sent me to the box office. At the box office, I was told there were no tickets to be had at any price. I must have had such an sad disappointed face! After saying that and looking at me as I started to say thank you and leave, the guy said 'wait a minute', pulled a ticket from a cubby on the side, turned it over and wrote something on the back, then handed it to me and said 'show the back of that to the theater manager when you come back - show is at 8'. I said thank you and left, had supper (burger, fries and for dessert peppermint ice cream hot fudge sundae) at Howard Johnsons in Times Square and went back to the theater, showed the ticket as I was instructed (I never looked at the back of it, assuming it was standing room or some such). I was led to this seat in the orchestra, 5th row and it was the best seat in the house! The stage was angled into the audience so center action took place at a bit of an angle - and my seat was dead center to it. Ashley played directly to me all evening! I have never seen any other production of that show, nor will I because it could never be surpassed, I'd only be disappointed.
But what that ticket seller did - gave me what was clearly a House Seat saved for those last minute important attendees like US Presidents - without charge for no reason other than there must have been something in my face or voice that indicated I needed that act of kindness. It meant a great deal to me then and still does.
Mom came home from the hospital Christmas Eve, and she had recovered sufficiently by the time in late January I had to go back to school that she was insisting they could manage and I was to go back to school. Period. That Christmas was a little rough - Dad was too distracted and coping poorly to be much help and wasn't exactly cognizent that I needed money to deal with it all for them -- I wasn't quite as assured and outspoken in those days -- but we muddled through, being very grateful to have Mom still with us and home.

FYI I'd texted the neighbour beside us and asked her if I could pay her teen son to shovel, but never heard back from her (they are on our neighbourhood board) so it's not as though I hadn't tried something else first!


We were past 40 when our son began playing sports. Most of the other parents were 10 or more years younger, and usually more strapped for cash. One of the coaches had two boys, very close in age who played on the team, a group of 7- 8 year olds. Most of the team signed up for a baseball summer camp but only the oldest of the coach's two boys was going. Turned out, they couldn't afford the fees for both of them. My husband ( who knew absolutely zip about baseball ) had helped as an assistant coach. He quietly created a scholarship without identifying himself. All of the kids had a great week.

My husband died in an accident the summer that our son was 11. Somehow I did manage to get him signed up for soccer. A week or two before the start of the season, I got a sharp phone call from the woman ( a volunteer) who was responsible for organizing thousands of kids into teams and finding them coaches, referees and team moms. It was a demand call. She'd noticed that my husband and I had never contributed our time. I explained my situation and told her that I'd wanted to call and ask to have my son put on a team with a coach that he already knew, but with the press of many demands, I hadn't gotten around to it.
She asked for a list of names and called me back 15 minutes later. She put my son on a team with a coach he already knew from soccer and baseball.
I don't remember her name. But I'll never forget that act of kindness.

My heart just broke a little reading about the loss of your husband and young boys father. Having helped, in my community, with the roster for soccer teams, I know that even though the beginning of contact with that woman was not pleasant, she moved mountains to accommodate your request and son.
My daughter played soccer from age 5 until she was 12-I do not miss the weather we suffered through those games-lol
