Emma’s life was at a turning point. She was lonely, grief-stricken, and living on her last $50. On a rainy evening, she gave half of that money to help a stranger at the grocery shop. She expected nothing in return, but the very next day that very man changed her life forever and left her in tears.
The rain pounded on my jumper as I walked to the grocery shop, each drop soaking the worn fabric as if it was taking revenge on me personally. My trainers squelched with every step, and I trembled, clutching my hands to my chest.
‘Just keep walking, Emma,’ I muttered to myself. ‘Mum always said that hard times don’t last forever.’
I didn’t think I’d end up here at 23 – broke, exhausted and living from paycheck to paycheck. Last year, life dealt me a double blow. My parents, the only family I had, were killed in a car crash.
Overnight, my world shattered. I was left alone, drowning in grief and now barely hanging on to my feet under the weight of student loans and rent.
That night, I had my last $50 left. My fridge was empty, and I made a list of the essentials: bread, eggs, maybe some pasta. Nothing else.
‘Just make it through this week, Emma,’ I whispered to myself as the automatic doors hissed open. The fluorescent lights inside the shop made everything seem cold and lifeless, which was appropriate considering how I felt most days.
I took the basket and started walking up and down the aisles, mentally counting pennies. Bread. Eggs. A can of soup, if it was cheap enough.
‘God, Mum,’ I whispered, taking a can of her favourite tomato soup. ‘How I wish you were here. You always knew how to make something out of nothing.’
As I approached the register, I spotted him. A man, no older than 60.
He was hunched over the conveyor belt, his sweatshirt soaked and tight around his lean figure. His jeans were frayed and his hands were shaking as he counted out coins, muttering an apology to the cashier.
‘I’m sorry… I think I’m short,’ he stammered, his voice barely audible in the hum of the shop. ‘Please, I haven’t eaten in two days. Can I have just the bread?’
The cashier, a girl who wasn’t much older than me, looked uncomfortable. ‘Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t-’
‘I’ve got your back,’ I said and stepped forward without hesitation.
Both of them turned and looked at me. The man’s eyes were wide, astonished, and glistened with unshed tears. ‘You don’t have to,’ he said quickly, his voice cracking. ‘Really, you don’t have to… I don’t want to be a burden.’
‘I know how it feels,’ I replied quietly, reaching for the money. ‘To feel like the world has turned its back on you. To be surprised that no one else sees you. Let me help you. Please.’
His hands shook as he gripped the edge of the counter. ‘But why do you-’
‘Because someone once told me that kindness matters most when it’s worth something,’ I said, remembering my mother’s words. ‘And right now it matters more than my own groceries.’
It wasn’t much. Just bread, tinned soup and milk. But it was more than he could afford, and almost more than I could afford too.
His lips quivered as he took the bag from the cashier and turned to face me. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered, clutching the package tightly. ‘You have no idea what this means. I’ve lost everything lately, and I just…’
‘We all need help sometimes,’ I said, gently touching his arm. ‘Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.’
‘I will,’ he nodded, emotion in his voice. ‘And someday, hopefully, I’ll be able to repay that kindness.’
‘Take care of yourself,’ I said quietly, watching him shuffle out into the rain.
I didn’t even recognise his name.
Later that evening, sitting in my tiny flat eating a meagre dinner, I thought about this man. ‘I hope you’re okay in there,’ I whispered, looking out the rain-wet window. ‘Whoever you are, you’re about the same age as my dad. Just…just be okay.’
The next morning, my alarm clock rang at seven a.m., forcing me awake. My stomach was already twisted into a knot. It was my big job interview-my only chance to get out of this mess.
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my only jacket. ‘Come on, Emma,’ I whispered to my reflection. ‘You can do this. Daddy always said you were stronger than you realised yourself. You were his lioness, remember?’
I threw on a blazer and put on the blouse I’d ironed the night before. The scuffs on my heels still remained, no matter how hard I tried to polish them, but it was the best I could do.
‘Let’s hope it’s enough,’ I muttered as I brushed my hair. My hands trembled as I put on my mother’s ring, the only piece of jewellery I had left. ‘Give me strength today, Mum.’
The office building was huge, with glass walls and a polished floor that made my heels click as I walked in. Everything about it screamed success. I gripped my CV tighter, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that I didn’t belong here.
The well-dressed woman at the reception desk smiled warmly. ‘Good morning, how can I help you?’
‘I’m Emma,’ I replied, and my voice was firmer than I felt. ‘I have an interview at 9:00.’
She nodded, checking her computer. ‘Of course! Mr Watson is expecting you.’
‘Miss Emma?’ – The receptionist called out a few moments later.
‘Yes,’ I said, stepping forward and my heart thudded.
She led me into an elegant boardroom with floor-to-ceiling windows. I tried to even out my breathing as I sat down, nerves threatening to unsettle me.
The door opened and I froze.
It was him. The man from the grocery store. But he wasn’t wearing a hoodie anymore. He was clean-shaven, wearing a tailored suit that looked like it cost more than my rent.
He strode to the head of the table, his movements calm and confident. ‘Good morning, everyone,’ he said, his voice warm and commanding at the same time. Then his gaze stopped on me, and recognition flashed across his face.
‘Emma, right?’ – he said, and a faint smile trembled on his lips.
‘Yes,’ I replied. My mind was spinning, trying to make sense of what I had seen.
The interview went by like a blur. Formal questions, my rehearsed answers, and my heart pounding in my ears. When it was over, he asked me to stay.
When the room emptied, he leaned back in his chair, studying me. ‘I owe you an explanation,’ he said, his voice soft.
I nodded, gripping the edge of the chair with my hands. ‘Last night you were…’
‘A broken man,’ he finished, his eyes clouded with emotion. ‘A man who forgot who he was.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘My name is Watson,’ he began. ‘I’m the CEO of this company.’
My breath caught. CEO? How was that even possible?
‘When we met, I wasn’t in the best of health,’ he admitted. ‘I had recently lost my wife, Sarah. She was… everything to me. We were married for 25 years and suddenly she was gone because of cancer. It all happened so fast and I barely had time to say goodbye.’
Tears came to my eyes and I realised the same grief I felt after losing my parents.
‘My car broke down last night,’ he continued. ‘I walked in the rain for hours, trying to feel anything. Anything other than grief. I forgot my wallet, forgot who I was supposed to be. I just needed to remember what it felt like to be human again.’
‘I know the feeling,’ I whispered, wiping away a tear. ‘After my parents died, I felt so lost. Sometimes I still feel lost.’
He looked at me with understanding. ‘When you helped me last night, you didn’t see a CEO or a rich man. You saw a man in pain and you reached out. You gave me your last dollars, didn’t you?’
I nodded, unable to speak.
‘Why?’ – He asked softly. ‘Why help a stranger when you clearly needed it yourself?’
‘Because my mum always told me that kindness is the only thing we can give, and it costs us nothing, even if we have nothing left. And by helping you, I felt like I was helping myself.’
Mr Watson stood up and walked to the window. ‘Your mother was a wise woman.’ He turned to me again, tears glistening in his eyes. ‘You know, Sarah used to say the same thing. She believed in random acts of kindness and in helping others, even if it hurt. Last night when you helped me…it was like I heard her voice again.’
I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. ‘I’m so sorry about your wife.’
‘And I’m sorry about your parents,’ he said softly. ‘Life can be cruel sometimes.’
‘Yes,’ I whispered. ‘But sometimes it also gives us moments of mercy.’
He smiled, walking back to his desk. ‘I saw your name and picture in the stack of candidates this morning. Your qualifications are impressive, but your character… that’s what this company needs. And me, to be honest. Someone who remembers that business isn’t just about profit…it’s about people. And compassion.’
My heart raced. ‘Does that mean…?’
‘The job is yours, Emma,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘And I hope you’ll think of it as more than just a job. I hope you’ll help me build something meaningful here-a company that doesn’t forget to be human.’
I walked out of the building in a daze, clutching the offer letter in my hands as if it might disappear if I let it go. The rain from the day before had ended, and the city was flooded with sunlight.
Finding a quiet bench in the nearest park, I finally let myself burst into tears. ‘Mum, Dad,’ I sobbed, holding my mum’s ring in my hands. ‘How I wish you could see this. I want you to know that everything you taught me about kindness and strength mattered. It all mattered!’
That night, helping Mr Watson seemed so insignificant – just a quiet act of kindness in a world that seemed so cruel. But to him, it was everything. And somehow that simple choice changed our lives.
Sometimes life is unbearably hard. And sometimes it gives you moments like this one – a reminder that good things can happen even when you least expect it.
As I stood up from the bench, my shoulders felt lighter for the first time in months. The loss of my parents still weighed heavy on my heart, but I knew they were proud of me.
‘Thank you,’ I whispered to Sky, clutching the letter tightly. ‘For teaching me that kindness always finds its way home.’
Here’s another story: A teacher’s simple act of kindness changes the life of a troubled student after he sees a boy walk into an abandoned house and follows him.
This piece is inspired by real events and people, but it was fictionalised for creative purposes. Names, characters and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental and was not intended by the author.
