My dad left my mom for another woman on Christmas Eve when I was eight years old. This left my mom with three boys to raise. There was a small grocery store in our neighborhood owned by Mr. Thomas. My parents actually stopped at his store while bringing me home from the hospital and he weighed me on his butcher scales. When he heard that my dad had left, he set my mom up with a small charge account which she promptly paid on or paid off every payday. It allowed us kids to walk to the store and buy that baloney, milk, cat food or even cigarettes for my mom without having a penny in our pocket. As I got older, my brother worked for Mr. Thomas. He found out that Mr. Thomas and his wife were "accidentally" losing some of my mom's charge slips, which were just pieces of paper in a file. I later realized that this could be why we got a toy for Christmas or a new pair of pants every now and then. When I turned 19, I found out that Mr. Thomas was going to die soon. I made a point to go to his house and visit with him. I told him that I knew what he and his wife did to help my mom. He seemed embarrassed but humbly admitted to it. I walked over to his bed and hugged him for what seemed like several minutes. We were both crying at the end of it. But I never got a chance to tell him how much of a foundation that set for me for the rest of my life. I guess what I'm saying is that one kind action, one you have no idea is being observed, can change a person's life. And you don't even know it unless someone tells you. That's it. End of story.