SOTD! A Strangers Note on My Grocery Receipt Changed My Day, and Maybe My Faith in People

Her small act stopped me in my tracks. It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t public. It was simple, deliberate kindness — thoughtful and deeply human.

I kept that receipt. It sits on my kitchen counter, its ink slowly fading but its message still clear. Every time I look at it, I’m reminded how rare it is for someone to notice — not for attention, not for praise, but purely out of care.

We pass hundreds of strangers every week, eyes down, minds elsewhere. Most of us move through the world invisible to each other. That woman could’ve stayed a stranger — just another face in the crowd — but she chose to see me.

Her six words, scrawled on a scrap of paper, carried something bigger than a reminder. They carried proof that empathy still exists — quiet, unassuming, and powerful. Someone chose to do what was right, simply because it was right.

That brief encounter shifted something in me. It reminded me that decency hasn’t disappeared — it’s just quieter than the noise. It lives in the small gestures: a door held open, a lost glove returned, a stranger who lets you go first in line. Those acts don’t make headlines, but they keep the world humane.

I never saw her again. I don’t know her name. She probably doesn’t remember mine. But I think about her often — how one ordinary moment in one ordinary store became something extraordinary.

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