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Small Great Things, Liverpool, New York, NY (2025)

12/03/2025

This is my neighbor.
He has no idea I took this photo from my window.
When my husband was deployed, one of the worries we had was about the grass.
Who would maintain the yard?
I could go out there and cut the grass myself, but with everything I had on my plate with the two girls, I wasn’t feeling it.
We could try and find a lawn service, but that still meant me having to make sure it got done and that they did a good job.
I wanted as little additional worry as possible while my husband was deployed.
This is where Steve comes in.
I sent him a text and told him about the deployment. I wasn’t sure if he would say yes, but I asked.
“Could you help cut our grass? He will cut it today before he deploys tomorrow, but it would be great if you could cut it and help me maintain it while he is gone. We can pay you.”
He responded right away that it wasn’t a problem at all and that he would not accept payment. He wanted to help.
I let my husband know, and we both breathed a sigh of relief.
When your husband is deployed, whatever worry you can take off your plate means the world.
Knowing the grass would be taken care of was enormous stress off my shoulders.
About an hour later, daddy was playing with his girls.
He was trying to soak up as much time as possible with them before deploying the next day.
He told them he could play for a bit, but he also had to go outside and cut the grass soon.
Then we heard it.
A mower.
My husband said, “Aliette, Steve is cutting the grass! Maybe he misunderstood that we didn’t need him to help us until next week when I’m already gone.”
I went outside. “Steve, we didn’t need you to start until next week, and he was going to do it today before he leaves tomorrow.”
Steve responded, “I know. But I’m not the one about to leave my family for deployment. He can spend time with his family, and I got it.”
My face swelled with tears.
Tears of worry, gratitude, anxiety, relief all rolled into one.
It all came pouring out on Steve, who probably thought I was a bit overly emotional about grass.
But it wasn’t about the grass.
It was about the gift of time he gave us.
A neighbor stepped up to help when we needed it.
As I came back inside, I thought of Mr. Rogers.
It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor.
So let’s make the most of this beautiful day,
Since we’re together, we might as well say,
Won’t you be my neighbor?

12/02/2025

The old lady handed her bank card to a bank teller and said, “I would like to withdraw $10

The teller told her, “For withdrawals less than $100 please use the ATM.”

The old lady wanted to know why ...

The teller returned her bank card and irritably told her, “These are the rules. Please leave if there is no other matter. There is a line of customers behind you.”

The old lady remained silent for a few seconds, then handed the card back to the teller and said, “Please help me withdraw all the money I have.”

The teller was astonished when she checked the account balance. She nodded her head, leaned down and respectfully told her, you have $300,000 in your account and the bank doesn't have that much cash currently. Could you make an appointment and come again tomorrow?

The old lady then asked how much she could withdraw immediately.

The teller told her any amount up to $3000

"Well, please let me have $3000 now", she The teller then handed it very friendly and respectfully to her

The old lady put $10 in her purse and asked the teller to deposit $2990 back into her account.

the moral of this tale .......

Don't be difficult with old people, they spent a lifetime learning the skills..

12/02/2025

She died just ten miles from the prison gates. The officer had to tell the waiting son that his mother wasn't coming.

Officer Reynolds is known in the facility as "The Wall."
He’s a 25-year veteran of the corrections department, a man who follows the rulebook to the letter and rarely cracks a smile.
He believes in order, discipline, and keeping his distance.

Then there is Dante.
At 21, Dante is serving time for a robbery that went wrong. He’s young, scared, and just trying to keep his head down.
His only lifeline is his mother, Mrs. Higgins.
She drives three hours every single Sunday to see him, bringing quarters for the vending machine and news from the neighborhood.
She is the only thing keeping him tethered to hope.

This Sunday, 2:00 PM came and went.
Dante was already seated at the table, his leg bouncing with anxiety. She was never late.
At 2:15 PM, the phone at the guard station rang.
Reynolds answered it. As he listened to the State Trooper on the other end, the color drained from his face.
There had been a collision on the interstate, just ten miles from the prison. It was fatal.

Reynolds hung up the phone. He looked at the young man sitting alone at table four, checking his watch every thirty seconds.
The warden wasn't available. The chaplain was in another block.
Reynolds knew he couldn't let the kid sit there waiting for a ghost.

He walked over to the table. He didn't use his "command voice."
"Dante," he said quietly. "We need to talk."
When he delivered the news, he watched the life leave the boy's eyes.
Dante didn't get angry. He didn't lash out. He just crumbled, a guttural sob escaping him as he doubled over, the reality crushing him instantly.

Protocol strictly forbids physical contact between officers and inmates.
Reynolds is a man who lives by protocol.
But in that moment, he didn't see an inmate number. He saw a broken child who had just lost the only person who believed in him.

Reynolds pulled out the chair next to him and sat down.
He wrapped his heavy arm around Dante’s shaking shoulders and pulled him in.
"I know," Reynolds whispered, his voice rough but steady. "I know, son. You just let it out. I've got you."

For twenty minutes, the visitation room went silent.
The other inmates and families turned away out of respect.
Reynolds didn't move. He sat there, a solid rock in the middle of the storm, holding the grieving young man until the medical staff could arrive to help.
For that hour, the bars didn't matter. They were just two human beings getting through the worst moment of a life, together…

12/02/2025

ANECDOTE OF A LEGEND

Shaquille O’Neal said:

“My stepfather was a sergeant in the army. A serious man, strong, with character. We had an excellent relationship. Once, during my rookie season in the NBA, I went to play at Madison Square Garden against the New York Knicks. I played terribly.

He called me after the game and asked why I had played so badly. He asked if it was because I felt pressure facing Patrick Ewing and the Knicks. I told him yes, that I had felt pressure.

He said, ‘Tomorrow I want you home at 7:00 a.m.’

He picked me up, and while we were driving, we saw a homeless family on the side of the road. They had nothing. He stopped, gave them money for their next meal, and then said to me:

‘That is pressure. You have everything. You’re being weak. Playing basketball and making millions of dollars is not pressure. Pressure is not knowing when or where your next meal will come from.’

Then he told me, ‘Get out and help that family.’

I got out. It was a man with his wife and two children. They had just lost their home. The man was serious, trying to find any work. He said he cut grass. I called a friend and told him, ‘Find this man a job.’ I called another friend and said, ‘I need an apartment for a family of four—I’ll send you a check tomorrow.’

I helped that family because they truly needed it.

After that day, I never felt pressure during a basketball game again.
Because that family—they were living with real pressure.”..

12/01/2025

So, we’re on vacation in Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge, and today we went to Ripley’s Believe It or Not! While we were there, my 13-year-old daughter set her phone down to do an interactive activity, and we kept walking without realizing she had left it behind. By the time we noticed, about 20 minutes had passed, and we immediately went back to look for it.

The whole time, I was scolding her—telling her how expensive it would be to replace the phone, that she’d be responsible for paying for it, and also fussing about her turning off location services, which would have made it much easier to find.

She’s a great kid and always believes in the good in people. She kept saying she really hoped someone had turned the phone in. When we got back to Ripley’s, we were searching everywhere. I kept reminding her that while I hoped someone did, it was more likely that someone would try to keep it or sell it, and that unfortunately, you can’t always trust people to do the right thing anymore.

Finally, we reached the main desk and asked if anyone had turned in a phone. Three staff members excitedly said, “YES!” We were so thankful it had been found and turned in! And I was even more grateful that there are still honest and kind people in the world.

Because I’m Mom, I took the phone away for a few hours. But when she finally got it back, she also got a little bonus in the form of selfies! I want to thank this young man, from the bottom of my heart, for proving me wrong. I especially want to thank his parents for raising him to be honest, kind, and to show such integrity at a young age. You did a great job with this one!

12/01/2025

This handsome young man is Jeremiah. Friday was a long day at work, I didn’t get a lunch. After leaving the barn around 9 I stopped by the McDonalds in Reading, Oh to grab some dinner. I ordered my food but realized as I got to the window to pay, I had left my wallet at work.

I told this young man to cancel my order. His response was ”it’s ok ma’m I got you“ he then took his wallet out and paid for my meal. What an amazing young man! We hear so much about what’s wrong with the world I had to share a little of what is right. I am just now posting this because I wanted his permission and I wanted to repay him for his kindness.

I asked him if I could hug him and told him to keep being who he is because he is an amazing person. He didn’t know how tired I was or that I hadn’t eaten or even if he would be repaid but he didn’t even bat an eye and just acted…

12/01/2025

This format uses short paragraphs and visual spacing, which stops people from scrolling past it.
I stopped my cart dead in Aisle 4 today. I thought the man standing in front of the pasta sauce was having a medical emergency.
He was frozen. In the middle of the Saturday morning rush, he was a statue.
He was dressed beautifully—pressed shirt, polished shoes—but his hands were shaking so hard the paper he was holding rattled like a leaf. People were zooming past him. One kid even bumped him and muttered, "Move it, pops."
He didn’t flinch. He just stared at the wall of 100 different marinara sauces with terror in his eyes.
I went up to him. "Excuse me," I said gently. "The chunky garden style is up top."
He looked at me with wide, wet eyes.
"I... I don't know," he whispered. "She just wrote 'sauce.' For Sunday."
He showed me the note. It was written on a scrap of an old envelope in shaky handwriting:
Coffee. Oatmeal. Sauce. Peppermints.
"My name is Margaret," I said.
"Robert," he stammered. Then he looked at his shoes. "My wife, Ellen... she did the shopping. She made the house a home. We lost her in September."
My heart broke. He wasn't shopping for food. He was trying to keep his house smelling like her. He was trying to keep her memory alive.
"Robert," I said, "I have nowhere to be. Let’s find Ellen’s sauce."
We walked through the store together. He told me they were married for 52 years. He told me he feels invisible now. "Everyone is angry," he said. "No one looks you in the eye. I miss her quiet."
When we got to the checkout, he fumbled with his wallet and dropped his card. The man behind us let out a loud, impatient sigh.
I turned around and gave that man the "Mom look" until he looked away in shame.
We got Robert checked out. As he left, he grabbed my hand. The panic was gone from his eyes.
"Thank you," he said. "I didn't think I could survive this place alone today."
I sat in my car and cried for ten minutes.
Friends, we are living in a time where we are so connected, yet so disconnected. We rush, we scroll, we ignore.
But please remember: The slow man in the checkout line might be learning to live without his partner for the first time in 50 years. The woman staring blankly at the produce might be overwhelmed by grief.
Look up from your phone. Be patient. Smile.
We’re all just walking each other home. Let’s make the walk a little gentler. ❤️🛒

11/30/2025

Every Saturday, Grandpa and I walk to the nursing home a few blocks away from our house.

Mom didn’t like it because I would skip playing with my friends so I could be with grandpa even on a Saturday.

We go to visit many of the old and sick people who live there because they can’t take care of themselves anymore. “Whoever visits the sick gives them life,” Grandpa always says. First we visit Mrs. Sokol. I call her “The Cook.” She likes to talk about the time when she was a well-known cook back in Russia.

People would come from miles around, just to taste her famous chicken soup. Next we visit Mr. Meyer. I call him “The Joke Man.” We sit around his coffee table, and he tells us jokes. Some are very funny. Some aren’t. And some I don’t get. He laughs at his own jokes, shaking up and down and turning red in the face. Grandpa and I can’t help but laugh along with him, even when the jokes aren’t very funny.

Next door is Mr. Lipman. I call him “The Singer” because he loves to sing for us. Whenever he does, his beautiful voice fills the air, clear and strong and so full of energy that we always sing along with him. We visit Mrs. Kagan, “The Grandmother,” who shows us pictures of her grandchildren. They’re all over the room, in frames, in albums and even taped to the walls.

Mrs. Schrieber’s room is filled with memories, memories that come alive as she tells us stories of her own experiences during the old days. I call her “The Memory Lady.” Then there’s Mr. Krull, “The Quiet Man.” He doesn’t have very much to say; he just listens when Grandpa or I talk to him. He nods and smiles, and tells us to come again next week.

That’s what everyone says to Grandpa and me, even the woman in charge, behind the desk. Every week we do come again, even in the rain. We walk together to visit our friends: The Cook, The Joke Man, The Singer, The Grandmother, The Memory Lady and The Quiet Man. One day Grandpa got very sick and had to go to the hospital. The doctors said they didn’t think he would ever get better.

Saturday came, and it was time to visit the nursing home. How could I go visiting without Grandpa? Then I remembered what Grandpa once told me: “Nothing should stand in the way of doing a good deed.” So I went alone. Everyone was happy to see me. They were surprised when they didn’t see Grandpa. When I told them that he was sick and in the hospital, they could tell I was sad. “Everything is in God’s hands,” they told me.

“Do your best and God will do the rest.” The Cook went on to reveal some of her secret ingredients. The Joke Man told me his latest jokes. The Singer sang a song especially for me. The Grandmother showed me more pictures. The Memory Lady shared more of her memories. When I visited The Quiet Man, I asked him lots of questions.

When I ran out of questions, I talked about what I had learned in school. After a while, I said good-bye to everyone, even the woman in charge, behind the desk. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “May your grandfather have a complete recovery.” A few days later, Grandpa was still in the hospital. He was not eating, he could not sit up and he could barely speak.

I went to the corner of the room so Grandpa wouldn’t see me cry. My mother took my place by the bed and held Grandpa’s hand. The room was dim and very quiet. Suddenly the nurse came into the room and said, “You have some visitors.” “Is this the place with the party?” I heard a familiar voice ask. I looked up. It was The Joke Man. Behind him were the Cook, The Singer, The Grandmother, The Memory Lady, The Quiet Man and even the woman in charge, behind the desk.

The Cook told Grandpa about all the great food that she would cook for him once he got well. She had even brought him a hot bowl of homemade chicken soup. “Chicken soup? What this man needs is a pastrami sandwich,” said The Joke Man as he let out one of his deep, rich laughs. Everyone laughed with him. Then he told us some new jokes.

By the time he was finished, everyone had to use tissues to dry their eyes from laughing so hard. Next, The Grandmother showed Grandpa a get-well card made by two of her granddaughters. On the front of one card was a picture of a clown holding balloons. “Get well soon!” was scribbled in crayon on the inside. The Singer started singing, and we all sang along with him.

The Memory Lady told us how Grandpa once came to visit her in a snowstorm, just to bring her some roses for her birthday. Before I knew it, visiting hours were up. Everyone said a short prayer for Grandpa. Then they said good-bye and told him that they would see him again soon. That evening, Grandpa called the nurse in and said he was hungry. Soon he began to sit up. Finally he was able to get out of bed. Each day, Grandpa felt better and better, and he grew stronger and stronger. Soon he was able to go home. The doctors were shocked. They said his recovery was (truncated).

11/30/2025

This fine young man came into my life 5 years ago.

He Walked up behind me with a hair cut that was 5 months past due and a big hole in his shirt & one sock on his foot. He tugged on the back of my shirt and said, sir can you teach me how to play football. I responded- son I teach a lot more then just how to play football. His response was OK. I then said son where is your mom and dad at football isn’t cheap? He responded My mom died and I don’t know where dad is, but my Auntie takes care of me. God spoke to me that second and told me to take care of him in every way. God said to me “be a Shepard”. Not knowing that day The lord gave me another son who would change me and him for ever. I have never been more proud to sit at a 8th grade promotion as I was today. I reflected on the 4 national titles and all the state championships we won together.

But I reflected most on how Jesus dropped him into my life like a stork from the sky and how far he has come since that day. God gave him the best Aunt you can ever ask for. I Love you Marquise! And the Lord gave us 4 more years of HS football together.
Credit: Doug Provenzano~

11/30/2025

The Investigator attempted to stop the vehicle which failed to yield. An Alabama State Trooper assisted and the vehicle eventually stopped on AL 14 near Browns Road. The Investigator and Trooper determined that the driver was suffering from a diabetic episode. It was discovered that a 10 year-old child passenger had steered the vehicle to safety and applied the brakes to stop the vehicle. The child's actions may have saved the driver's life, his own life and the lives of others on the road at the time. The Trooper gave the driver some food as emergency personnel arrived on scene. The driver was transported to a local hospital. The Trooper took the child, who was hungry, to a local fast food restaurant for a meal as they waited for family members to arrive. Millbrook Police and Fire Rescue assisted with the incident. Great job to all involved!

L to R: Investigator Salvador, the young hero and Trooper Walls.

Credit Alabama Law Enforcement Agency

11/29/2025

I love reading old books. I like the smell of the paper and the history inside them.
Last month, I checked out a copy of "Pride and Prejudice" from my local library. It was an old edition from the 1980s.
When I got to page 100, I found an envelope tucked between the pages. It was sealed, but the glue had dried up, so it popped open.
Inside was a twenty-dollar bill and a handwritten note on pink stationery.
The note said:
"To whoever reads this book next:
Today is my wedding day. I am marrying my best friend. I am so happy that I want to share my joy with a stranger. I worked extra shifts to save this money. Please, take this $20 and do something nice for yourself. Buy a coffee, buy some flowers, or buy a book. Just know that somewhere in the world, someone is very happy, and they want you to be happy too.
Love, Julie. June 12, 1992."
I stared at the note. It had been sitting in this book for over 30 years.
I looked at the date. June 12, 1992.
I wondered where Julie was now. Was she still happy? Was she still married?
I decided to try and find her. I posted a picture of the note on a local community Facebook group. "Does anyone know a Julie who got married on June 12, 1992, in this town?"
The post went viral. Two days later, I got a message from a woman named Rebecca.
"That's my mom!" she wrote. "Please, can I meet you?"
We met at a coffee shop. Rebecca was crying.
"My mom passed away three years ago from cancer," Rebecca told me. "My dad misses her every day. He’s been having a really hard time lately. He feels like she’s gone forever."
I handed Rebecca the note and the twenty-dollar bill.
"She hid this 30 years ago," I said. "It's like she knew you guys would need a message from her today."
Rebecca took the note home to her father. Later, she sent me a picture. It was her dad, sitting in his chair, holding the pink note and smiling for the first time in years. He remembered that day. He remembered how happy she was.
He used the $20 to buy a bouquet of her favorite flowers—lilies—and placed them by her photo.
A small act of kindness from the past had traveled through time to heal a broken heart in the present. It proved that love never really disappears; sometimes, it just hides in a library book, waiting to be found.

11/29/2025

To that woman,
I saw you. I saw you elbow your husband when we sat down. I saw you stare a hole through the woman that was trying to have a family dinner with the two of us. I saw you laugh. I saw you talk. I smiled at your daughter who made a point to look at us. I held back hurt. I held back mean words. I also held back the basket of chips I wanted to throw at your table. I'm not oblivious to racism. I've sadly prepared myself for that. What's even more sad is that he is the most gentle, kind hearted, loving man I've ever met & he will constantly have to try to prove himself because he chose me. I don't give a rats how old you are, how your generation was raised, or where you grew up. WHERE in your upbringing did someone corrupt you so badly that you believe a skin tone sculpts someone's morals? "It hurts the children." You're right it does. It's not my kids that's hurting though. It's the kids having to be raised by people like you.
And to the next person who tries my life: I'm not holding back the chips.
Credit: Kayla Cofield~

Small Great Things

12/03/2025

12/02/2025

12/02/2025

12/02/2025

12/01/2025

12/01/2025

12/01/2025

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