Whenever your faith in people is lost, remember these pictures.
These all made me about cry
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* \(◕‿◕✿)/ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
friendly reminder that small progress is still progress,
and we’re all v proud of you for overcoming as much as you have.
keep movin’ forward, u lil cupcake
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* \(◕‿◕✿)/ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Other compliments that do NOT focus on appearance:
It’s so nice to hear your laugh.
It’s good to see you.
I’m glad you’re here.
That was clever.
You’re so thoughtful.
You make me laugh.
I enjoy your company.
For waking up and facing the day.
You are strong and beautiful :D xxxxxx
People aren’t always awful. Sometimes, they’re maybe even just a little bit wonderful.
I love the world.
I CANT HANDLE THIS RIGHT NOW
We need to hear more stories like this in the news:
Julio Diaz has a daily routine. Every night, the 31-year-old social worker ends his hour-long subway commute to the Bronx one stop early, just so he can eat at his favorite diner.
But one night last month, as Diaz stepped off the No. 6 train and onto a nearly empty platform, his evening took an unexpected turn.
He was walking toward the stairs when a teenage boy approached and pulled out a knife.
“He wants my money, so I just gave him my wallet and told him, ‘Here you go,’” Diaz says.
As the teen began to walk away, Diaz told him, “Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something. If you’re going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm.”
The would-be robber looked at his would-be victim, “like what’s going on here?” Diaz says. “He asked me, ‘Why are you doing this?’”
Diaz replied: “If you’re willing to risk your freedom for a few dollars, then I guess you must really need the money. I mean, all I wanted to do was get dinner and if you really want to join me … hey, you’re more than welcome.
“You know, I just felt maybe he really needs help,” Diaz says.
Diaz says he and the teen went into the diner and sat in a booth.
“The manager comes by, the dishwashers come by, the waiters come by to say hi,” Diaz says. “The kid was like, ‘You know everybody here. Do you own this place?’”
“No, I just eat here a lot,” Diaz says he told the teen. “He says, ‘But you’re even nice to the dishwasher.’”
Diaz replied, “Well, haven’t you been taught you should be nice to everybody?”
“Yea, but I didn’t think people actually behaved that way,” the teen said.
Diaz asked him what he wanted out of life. “He just had almost a sad face,” Diaz says.
The teen couldn’t answer Diaz — or he didn’t want to.
When the bill arrived, Diaz told the teen, “Look, I guess you’re going to have to pay for this bill ‘cause you have my money and I can’t pay for this. So if you give me my wallet back, I’ll gladly treat you.”
The teen “didn’t even think about it” and returned the wallet, Diaz says. “I gave him $20 … I figure maybe it’ll help him. I don’t know.”
Diaz says he asked for something in return — the teen’s knife — “and he gave it to me.”
Afterward, when Diaz told his mother what happened, she said, “You’re the type of kid that if someone asked you for the time, you gave them your watch.”
“I figure, you know, if you treat people right, you can only hope that they treat you right. It’s as simple as it gets in this complicated world.”
Hear Julio’s NPR story here. http://m.npr.org/story/89164759?url=/2008/03/28/89164759/a-victim-treats-his-mugger-right
There should be more stories like this.
This is so lovely.
“An anthropologist proposed a game to children in an African tribe. He put a basket full of fruit near a tree and told the children that whoever got there first won the sweet fruits. When he told them to run, they all took each others hands and ran together, then sat together enjoying their treats.
When he asked them why they had run like that when one could have had all the fruits for himself, they said, ‘UBUNTU, how can one of us be happy if all the other ones are sad?’ (‘UBUNTU’ in the Xhosa culture means: ‘I am because we are.)”via Occupy Sweden
‘Not even our husbands knew!’ The women who have been secretly delivering cakes to underprivileged families for over 30 YEARS
They call themselves “The 9 Nanas,” and have been secretly whipping up, and delivering hundreds of pound cakes during the middle of the night in a grand scheme to help those in need. And then before anyone can catch a glimpse of them, they quietly and quickly disappear back into their daily lives in West Tennessee.
Mary Ellen, one of the nine women, who are all aged between 54 and 72, told The Huffington Post: ‘We give new meaning to the term drive-by. “We drive through low-income neighborhoods and look for homes with fans in the window. That told us that the people who live there don’t have air-conditioning. Or we see that there are no lights on at night, which means there is a good chance their utilities have been turned off. Then we return before the sun came up, like cat burglars, and drop off a little care package.”
The women, who consider themselves sisters, gather in the darkness at 4am to begin their daily routine, where they whip up their cakes and deliver them in the dark. Mary Ellen explained how they got started, 35 years ago. One day over a card game, the women were reminiscing about the grandparents, named MaMaw and PaPaw, who raised Mary Ellen and three of the other sisters.
“MaMaw Ruth would read in the paper that someone had died and she’d send off one of her special pound cakes. She didn’t have to know the family. She just wanted to put a little smile on their faces. And we started thinking about what we could do to make a difference like that. What if we had a million dollars? How would we spend it?” she said.
The ladies began brainstorming, and one of the sisters suggested they all start doing their own laundry, putting put the money saved to good use. She said, “I admit, I protested at first. There’s just something about laundering that I don’t like. But I was outnumbered! So among the nine of us, we’d put aside about $400 a month and our husbands never noticed a thing. Their shirts looked just fine.”
The women started eavesdropping at the local beauty shop or when they were picking up groceries, and when they heard about a widow or a single mother who needed some help, they would anonymously pay a utility bill or buy new clothes for the children. The Nanas would find out where the person lived and send a package with a note that simply read, ‘Somebody loves you,’ which would always include one of MaMaw Ruth’s special pound cakes.
For three decades, the ladies’ good deeds went undetected.
It was only when Mary Ellen’s husband started noticing extra mileage on the car and large amounts of cash that had been withdrawn from their savings account that the women were caught out.
She said in horror: ‘He brought out bank statements and they were highlighted!’
So The 9 Nanas they told the husbands about the laundry, eavesdropping and even the drive-bys. And to their surprise, their husbands offered to help.
Mary Ellen said, “They were amazed that we were doing this and even more amazed that they never knew. We can keep a good secret! All but three of them are retired now, so sometimes they come with us on our drive-bys. In our area, all you need is an address to pay someone’s utility bill, so we keep the men busy jotting down numbers.”
The women then moved their secret operation out of their homes and into the commercial kitchen of a restaurant owned by one of their sons. They sneak in before sunrise and sneak out before the staff come in, and have also hired a ‘happiness coordinator,’ who, to keep her identity secret for eavesdropping missions, goes by the code name of ‘Sunny’. Now selling over 100 of MaMaw Ruth’s pound cakes daily online at Happiness Happens, The 9 Nanas can take on bigger projects.
Recently they donated more than $5,000 worth of pillows, linens and personal care products to the YWCA shelter for survivors of domestic violence. This August, they will celebrate their second ‘Happiness Happens Month’ by sending a cake to one person in every state who has made a difference in their own community. Sometimes, they also pull out the phone book to send pound cakes to complete strangers.
In the last 35 years, The 9 Nanas have contributed nearly $900,000 of happiness to their local community. Mary Ellen said, “Not everyone is as lucky as we were to have MaMaw and PaPaw to take care of them, to fix all those things that are wrong. So this is our way of giving back. We want people to know that someone out there cares enough to do something. We want to make sure that happiness happens.”
I want to be like them… Gillian can do the baking and I’ll errr deliver when I drive!
But goodness. Thank God that there are people like the 9 Nanas out there. They have touched so many lives, and now they’ve touched mine.
God bless them and all the families they’ve helped/will help.
Heartwarming Tearjerker of the Day: My Little Pony voice actress Tara Strong was scheduled to appear at the upcoming Knoxville Comic and Anime Show, and 15-year-old mentally disabled brony Dragon and his mom, Rebecca Andrews, were looking forward to meeting her.
Then Strong canceled.
Andrews knew her son would be devastated, and she said as much on the convention’s Facebook page: “Thanks for posting. Just wish she’d cancelled before I paid for the vip pass. Now I have to figure out how to tell my disabled son he won’t be meeting Twilight.“
But Strong saw the post, called Andrews, and set up a phone call with Dragon.
Tara: Is this Dragon?
Tara: Do you know who this is?
Dragon: Yes, it’s Twilight Sparkle.
Dragon: Tara, you are so talented with all those voices you do.
Tara: Yes, yes I am, aren’t I?
Tara: (in Twilight’s voice) I love you, Dragon.
Dragon: (stunned, muttering) …love you, too, Twilight.
After the call, Andrews snapped a pic of Dragon’s expression and posted it to Facebook.
“She talked to him for about 20 minutes in all,” Andrews wrote. “[She] did every voice he asked her to do, talked a little to him about how to deal with bullies at school, and assured him that there is going to be a season 3 of My Little Pony.”
Dragon starts high school in the fall. He recently was switched to special needs classes so he won’t be subjected to bullying for liking My Little Pony.
“It’s still rather hard to believe this actually happened,” Andrews said, “even with Dragon piping up every once in a while, ‘Twilight Sparkle said she loved me.’”
Fuck yeah Tara Strong.
Fuck yeah My Little Pony.
Haters to the left.
I’d love to have some of these to hand out to people
As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)
A sweet lesson on patience.
A NYC Taxi driver wrote:
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.
‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’
‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.
‘Nothing,’ I said
‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.
‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.
‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..
I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
A student blows up at a teacher, drops the F-bomb. The usual approach at Lincoln – and, safe to say, at most high schools in this country – is automatic suspension. Instead, Sporleder sits the kid down and says quietly: “Wow. Are you OK? This doesn’t sound like you. What’s going on?”
He gets even more specific: “You really looked stressed. On a scale of 1-10, where are you with your anger?” The kid was ready. Ready, man! For an anger blast to his face….”How could you do that?” “What’s wrong with you?”…and for the big boot out of school. But he was NOT ready for kindness.
The armor-plated defenses melt like ice under a blowtorch and the words pour out: “My dad’s an alcoholic. He’s promised me things my whole life and never keeps those promises.” The waterfall of words that go deep into his home life, which is no piece of breeze, end with this sentence: “I shouldn’t have blown up at the teacher.” Whoa."
what a radical idea yo
You mean actually listening to people’s underlying issues make them act out less. Whoda thunk it.
This makes me happy. GO WALLA WALLA!
this makes me feel better about humanity
read the whole comic at the source.
I found this a few months ago and it never ceases to make me cry, every single time, because I feel this way for all of my trans friends.
You deserve better. All of you. You deserve so much better.
IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE WHOLE THING THEN GO DO IT NOW NOW NOW ;w;