Story 7:
Story 8:
I used to live above my landlord who was also a chef, and one night he made me a delicious bowl of pasta and sent his 2 little sons to deliver it to me. There was no occasion or anything. Pasta was great, and we got our full deposit back when we moved out.
He was a good dude. Worth mentioning, he only owned the house, and we lived in the upstairs, not some big realty co.
Story 9:
As a new mom, I had my special needs son at Disneyland when he was about 4. He had a complete meltdown. As he screamed and flailed, I got all kinds of dirty looks and muttered comments about how I should be controlling him, he was spoiled, he shouldn’t be there if he couldn’t behave, etc.
It was extremely stressful for both him and me. He couldn’t control his dysregulation, I had him in a safety hold and was unable to do anything more than keep him physically safe.
Then a mom came up and said, “Do you need a juice box or some goldfish crackers? I have extra.” She even stuck the straw in the juice box for him. He was immediately able to calm down and regulate.
I could have cried. All of those people walking past us giving us looks and comments, and one person recognized that he just needed some sugar and carbs to get through a rough patch.
Now that my kids are older, and I’m more experienced, I always look for ways I can help other parents in distress. It takes a village, but I wouldn’t have thought I’d find that village from a random stranger at Disneyland.
