Hard times. At some point or another, we’ve all experienced them. Living paycheck to paycheck, dodging bill collectors, mending clothes and pinching pennies — whatever our hardship may be, we do what we can to make it through.
And during these difficult times, there’s just one thing that can strengthen and comfort us, and that is love. Whether it be from family, friends, or a random stranger, little acts of kindness can go a very long way.
However, sometimes these kind acts can come in surprising and mysterious forms — like this envelope full of cash left by an anonymous stranger.
And though many of us might not ever be so lucky as to receive such a generous and anonymous gift, we’ve all been touched by another’s kindness in one way or another.
But of all the kind deeds I’ve ever heard about, the story you’re about to read might be the most touching and beautiful of them all.
Let us know what you think about this story in the comments below, and plea
se SHARE if it touched your heart, too!In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was four.Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. But he did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings — but no food either
If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress, loaded them into the rusty old ’51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince who ever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything… I had to have a job. Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Whee
