Despite not ordering Chinese food, the delivery guy on my doorstep believed it was. The receipt had a note on the back when I opened the box inside. I had no idea what I would learn later.
I was still figuring out how to balance being a single mom. Sometimes I felt like I was barely surviving. Other days, I thought I was drowning.
Something changed that night with a surprising delivery and cryptic note.
Two years ago, my husband departed and I became a single mother. He moved on and left me to pick up the pieces.
I didn’t have time to grieve then. I had two children to support, so I had to be strong.
Jamie, five, was energetic and curious in the world. My toddler Emily thought quiet equaled tragedy.
Children playing with clay (Pexels)
As a single mom, my days were filled with school drop-offs, dinner preps, and straining every dollar to meet their needs.
Most evenings, I went to bed fatigued, hoping to wake up refreshed to repeat.
Nothing changed Thursday night.
Jamie lay on the living room floor, focused on building a Lego tower.
Emily smeared yogurt on the carpet, laughing at her creation. I sighed and grabbed a rag to clean up, imagining the long night.
The doorbell rang.
Wiping my jeans, I frowned. No one was expected. I assumed a solicitor or neighbor needed anything.
A young man in a delivery uniform stood there with a large paper bag of takeout and his phone when I opened the door.
“Hi, uh, delivery for Mrs. Carter?” he asked, looking at his screen.
I blinked. “I think you have the wrong address.”
He hesitated, checking his phone. “Pre-paid. Sure you didn’t order this?”
Shaking my head. “Positive.”
Frowned, shrugged. The number mentioned is not being picked up. Better enjoy the cuisine.”
He gave the bag, bowed, and returned to his car.
The smell of sweet and sour chicken made my stomach grumble, and I stood there bewildered.
I placed the bag on the counter inside.
Jamie looked up from Legos. “Mom? Was that?”
“Apparently, dinner,” I answered, confused.
Inside, I found a crumpled receipt. The back of the receipt caught my eye. A clean, careful message was written.
Sometimes life shocks us positively. Open your heart, and kindness will return.
I stared at it, wondering who sent it, but my thoughts didn’t answer.
I didn’t think much of it, and we had an unexpected feast.
For the first time in weeks, Jamie laughed uncontrollably as Emily tried to use chopsticks like drumsticks that night.
I felt a little less anxious for the first time in months.
The next weeks felt different, like the cosmos had changed. Unexpected but timely gestures of compassion kept happening to me.
I noticed my yard being mowed one morning while drinking coffee outside.
No time or energy to trim it myself, but there it was, beautifully trimmed like someone had done it overnight.
A few days later, I ordered coffee at a drive-thru only to find that the car in front of me had paid.
Next, my automobile.
It had been making a peculiar noise for weeks, but I was afraid of the cost of taking it to a repair.
I found a message under the windshield wiper one day.
It looks like your car needs work. If you bring it by, I’ll look. No cost. Paying it forward.
A local auto shop’s address and a strange first name were on it.
I felt like these weren’t coincidences.
Someone caused this. Someone noticed me. Someone volunteered.
In the afternoon, I found the answer.
We went to the park to let Jamie and Emily run off some energy while I rested on a bench and enjoyed a rare moment of calm.
I spotted the young delivery driver from that night. Sitting a few benches away, he scrolled his phone.
I hesitated, then was brave and went over.
I said, “Hey,” hesitantly. Do you recall delivering food to my residence a few weeks ago? Takeout Chinese?”
Shocked, he looked up. He smiled slowly as his countenance changed from perplexity to realization.
Saying “Yeah, I remember,” “I didn’t think you’d track me down.”
Arms folded. Was it you? Notes and tiny acts of kindness… my lawn mowed, free auto repair. It was just you?”
He smiled sheepishly. “Not just me.”
I tilted my head for his explanation.
“Umm… “Just that…” he said. “Your story got around, and people wanted to help.”
“My story?” I requested. “That means what? Not even you know me.”
He looked at me honestly.
I didn’t have to, he said. “When I dropped off that food, I saw the toys in the yard and your worn but determined face. It evoked childhood memories of my mother. I was reared alone by her. Did two jobs. Too little time to breathe.”
Swallowed hard to understand what was happening.
“But how did my story ‘get around’?” I requested.
He sighed and looked at the ground before looking at me. “After I left your house that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your kids.”
Keeping quiet, I let him speak.
“I told a few coworkers the next day,” he said. I told them about the mix-up and how I left the food at your house. They inquired about you. If you needed support or had family. I didn’t know, but I kept thinking about it.”
He tapped his phone display.
“I posted in a local group. I only mentioned a hardworking single mom who needed some love, not your name or address. I hoped someone would contribute.”
My breath jerked. “And people actually did?”
He nodded. You’d be surprised. One of my neighbors offered to examine your car. A woman contacted me about leaving a grocery gift card in your mailbox. Some wondered how they might aid without becoming noticeable.”
I covered my lips with my palm, feeling emotional. The coffee? The lawn?”
“The coffee was a group woman. The lawn? That was my pal. He cuts lawns for a living and said it would take five minutes, so why not?”
Shaking my head, I was still shocked. “All these people… they don’t even know me.”
He grinned. “That’s it. They needn’t. Sometimes individuals just want to assist.”
I gazed at him, still thinking. A thought came to me.
On the first night, we had Chinese food. Who funded it?”
“Honestly? No idea “I said.
“Wait… you don’t know?”
“Nope. I thought it was you, but you seemed bewildered, so apparently someone else sent it.”
That was unexpected. That first meal seemed like part of his plan.
“Whoever paid for it… they started something bigger than they probably even realized,” said. “But just promise me one thing, will you?”
Nodding, I gazed at him.
“When you get the chance, do the same for someone else.”
After that day, his words stuck.
In line at the grocery store months later, I heard a distressed woman behind me. She apologized to the cashier, fumbling with her wallet and blushing. Denial of her card.
Without hesitation, I advanced. “I’ve got it.”
She looked at me, wide-eyed. “Oh, no, I can’t let you—”
I grinned. “Really. It’s fine.”
Muttering, “Thank you.” brought tears to her eyes.
As I gave the cashier my card, I remembered the note on the receipt from that night.
Sometimes life shocks us positively. Open your heart, and kindness will return.
I was certain it had.
