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Unfiltered Story #43964

USA | Unfiltered

Recently my baby was stillborn at only 20 weeks. Devastated and trying to plan a funeral with my husband I start talking to different people about funeral arrangements. Everyone I talked to donated their services or equipment so we had a place to bury our daughter(my uncle donated a grave plot), a casket thing to bury her in( a friend of the family who owns a vault company donated it and the opening and closing of the grave), the graveyard had a nice gazebo they let people use for free and they even came out and set up everything beforehand. All we have to do is pay for a headstone now which my husband’s coworker collected money and had people sign a card for us. During such a hard time it was wonderful that so many people came together to help make everything not as stressful.

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Unfiltered Story #43963

Ontario, CA | Unfiltered

(One day, my Mom was in the drive-thru at Tim Horton’s, behind a car. When my Mom got up to the window, she realized that her purchase had already been paid for by the people ahead of her! So, a couple days later, my Mom did the same thing for the people behind her! The World does have good people, after all!)

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Unfiltered Story #43962

DAYTON, OHIO | Unfiltered

I am getting off the bus at a college shuttle which runs approx once every 30 minutes.

Passenger #1: “Thanks.”

Bus driver: “You’re welcome.”

Passenger #2: “Thank you.”

Bus driver: “You’re welcome.”

Passenger #3: “Thanks.”

Bus driver: “You’re welcome.”

Passenger #4: “Thank you very much.”

Bus driver: “You’re welcome.”

Passenger #5: “Thanks, and have a great day.”

Bus driver: “You too!”

[It’s nice to know not all college students are evil.]

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Unfiltered Story #43956

Torino, Italy | Unfiltered

I am travelling alone as a young woman in her early twenties. I have left the train station and am trying to find my hostel; this is before smartphones and although I did look up directions online before I started out, the streets in this part of Torino are extremely bendy and twisty. I get hopelessly lost and eventually flop down with my giant backpack on a park bench. It’s about ten AM on a weekday and hardly anyone is around.

An old man approaches me and begins to speak to me in Italian. I manage to pick out one of the tiny handful of Italian words I know – “ostello”.

Me: Si! Si, um, ostello. Um…cerco? Cerco ostello? (Yes! Yes, um, hostel. Um…looking? Looking for hostel?)

The man gives me an odd look and begins to speak again, more haltingly.

Him: Sur…collina? Colline. Rue, um … raide. Oui?

It takes me a moment but I realize that he must think I’m French – probably because I’m fluent in French, so the accent is coming out in my pitiful amount of Italian. His French is extremely broken and heavily accented, but I can understand it.

Me: Oui? Sur la rue raide? Par la? (Yes? Up the steep street? Over there?)

Him: Si! Oui! In bocca al lupo! Um…bonne chance? ( Yes! Good luck!)

Me: Oui! Merci, grazi! (Thank you!)

Further proof that language is not always communication. :)

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Unfiltered Story #43957

Indiana, USA | Unfiltered

Some years ago, when I was still learning to drive, I was driving my mother and sister home along some country roads late in the afternoon. It was getting dark and had been snowing, and the roads hadn’t been cleared yet.

A large truck was coming from the other direction. I didn’t want to hit it, so I drove closer to the side of the road–but because of the snow, I couldn’t see the road’s edge, and I went over the edge and into the ditch. We were all fine, but the car was stuck and none of us had cellphones.

A few minutes later, we saw headlights coming from the other direction. The truck driver had seen us and come back. He got a chain from the one house anywhere near us, and he and the man who lived there helped pull us out.

Gentlemen show up where you least expect them sometimes!