The effect that a single TNT can have varies considerably from one individual to another. What could mean the world to one person may not particularly mean much to another. Out of the billions of experiences that we live through during our lifetimes, just a handful of them will remain precious to us, ones that for whatever reason remain etched in our minds. It is usually the most unlikely, fleeting encounters that end up making the biggest impacts and creating what invariably become filed away in our memories as ‘magic moments’. The magnitude of the impression they make will be determined by a whole host of circumstances – where we were at that particular point in our lives, the place we were in, the people we were with, our emotions at that exact time, and how we view that specific experience within the context of everything that was going on around us when looking back.

The most powerful of all the TNTs are without doubt those that appear out of nowhere. They are the ones that are completely unexpected, random acts of kindness, whether they are from family members, friends, colleagues or strangers. Their impact can be particularly profound when they are from people with whom we have very little or no connection – these really are super-explosive, more often than not giving us a lift we didn't know we needed.

They are especially poignant because they are 100% unconditional, there being no apparent benefit, obvious gain or tangible return whatsoever for those who do them. Apart from genuinely wanting to be kind, the only motivation behind taking such a heartfelt, unrequited step, for somebody that they have not met before and are unlikely to meet again, must be that it makes them feel happier. And why not!

According to neuroscientists, altruistic behaviour activates the reward centre of the brain. Endorphins, dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin are all triggered, a quartet of ‘happy chemicals’ that are designed specifically to make us feel great. Even the smallest of TNT acts – such as letting someone pull out in front of you in traffic, holding a door open, offering up your seat on public transport, giving money to a homeless person or putting a neighbour's bin out for collection knowing that they forgot to do it before leaving for work – not only elevates our own happiness, they fortify our mental well-being.

Studies have long established that, whether you are on the giving or receiving end of a gift, that gift will evoke feelings of well-being, and if like me you believe in karma, there surely can be no better way of creating good karma than by putting others ahead of ourselves. Two old adages spring to mind: ‘it's better to give than to receive’ and ‘what goes around, comes around’.

What I absolutely do know for sure is that, when we do TNTs and we see the difference they make, something deep down inside us lights up and we experience a lovely warm glow effect. Whatever worries and anxieties we may have, are temporarily replaced with pleasure and joy. The best description that I've heard for this feeling was given by a young delegate in one of my workshops who described it as being ‘lit’. I'd like to stress here that I'm not encouraging people to go around doing TNTs purely for their own personal gain, nor for self-centred, selfish reasons. However, at the end of the day, as far as I‘m concerned, if TNTs show empathy and compassion to the recipient and make them feel happier, whilst at the same time giving us a nice satisfying feeling, they can only make the world a better place. I think it's good to feel ‘lit’ now and then, even if it's us doing the lighting!

Out of the numerous studies into the effects of giving, the research that I find the most fascinating involves the ripple effect that a single random act of kindness can have. Those witnessing generous actions of others experience what is called ‘moral elevation’. The comforting high that we experience from observing benevolent TNTs inspires us to behave more altruistically towards others, if not at that time, almost certainly on other occasions. In other words, it only takes one person to do one good deed to activate a knock-on, chain reaction effect, and before you know it kindness can rapidly start to spread. TNTs are contagious!

At 7 am one Wednesday morning at a Starbucks in St. Petersburg, Florida, a customer at one of the drive-through windows, having paid for her own coffee, decided to buy a coffee for the driver in the car behind. That person then returned the favour by buying a coffee for the next in line. This ‘pay it forward’ cycle continued on for the next 11 hours until 378 customers had bought drinks for a complete stranger!

Pay it forward is defined as the situation where someone who has had a good deed done for them, instead of repaying the kindness back directly to the benefactor, instead responds by being kind to a different person – or, simply put, when you respond to another's kindness by being kind to someone else.

Whilst on the subject of buying complete strangers cups of coffee, a TNT that seems to be becoming increasingly popular, but which has in fact been around a very long time in Italy, possibly over a hundred years – it is called a caffè sospeso. It is generally known in coffee shops around the rest of the world by its translation as a ‘suspended coffee’ or in some places a ‘hanging coffee’ or ‘pending coffee’. It all began in the working-class cafés of Naples. Someone having experienced good fortune would order a sospeso, paying for two coffees but only receiving one. The idea being that anyone who was down on their luck could ask later on if there was a sospeso available, and, if there was, they could enjoy a free coffee. The best way I know of doing this nowadays is for the coffee shop to have a board where customers, having paid for a suspended coffee, can leave a Post-it note with a personal message for a grateful recipient. That way, those in need of a free coffee can see if there are any to be had, and, if so, discreetly hand over their note at the counter in exchange for it.

So why, in what can be loosely termed a ‘business book’, am I including the following personal experiences? The answer is simple. With TNTs being so highly impactful and contagious, the ones we encounter outside of work shape our business thinking and influence our behaviours in the workplace – and vice versa. No matter what our line of work, level of seniority or juniority, we can all learn invaluable lessons and gain useful ideas on how we can improve our workplace culture. In fact, if we are true to ourselves, it should be impossible to separate our workplace and home persona – they are inextricably linked and make up who we are as a whole.

A Gooner's Thank You

Amongst the numerous letters that I used to receive at Arsenal FC, there is one in particular that stands out.

In 1984, I received a letter from the mother of an avid Arsenal fan whose favourite player was Charlie Nicholas.

In her letter, she explained that her son Russel, a 17-year-old postman, had been knocked off his moped and that, for the past seven days, had been in a coma in Homerton Hospital.

I spoke to Charlie and asked him if there was anything we could possibly do to try and help.

Charlie instantly responded with ‘Let's go and visit him in hospital’.

Standing beside his bed looking at him lying there in a coma, Charlie suddenly grabbed Russel's shoulder and started shaking him and saying ‘Come on Russel wake up, wake up, we're playing Spurs on Saturday!’

To my utter astonishment, and that of all the doctors and nurses, Russel's eye lashes started to flutter.

A week later, we got a call from the hospital informing us of the wonderful news that Russel was making a full recovery.

Every year, I receive a Christmas card from Russel with just two words in it – ‘Thank you’.

David Dein

Uncle Pete

In March 1992, my mother passed away after a long battle with cancer. I was 19. It was tough for me being the youngest of three by six and seven years, respectively, and I found myself being on my own quite a lot.

The one thing I do remember from my mum's funeral was a large hand coming down on my shoulder and a voice saying, ‘If there is anything I can do, please ask, and don't be a stranger’. The very same reassuring offer of support was extended to my brother and sister. My father, who I loved massively, was a big drinker, so his friends knew they had to help.

I carried on playing Div 2 rugby in Cardiff that season before eventually going on holiday to Newport in Pembrokeshire where a lot of the Cardiff crew used to go for the summers.

One evening, in The Golden Lion pub, I ended up getting into a bit of trouble helping out one of my close friends in a scuffle. Standing at the end of the bar was the legend Sir Gareth Edwards, and standing next to him was the man who had offered to help me at my mum's funeral.

He called me into the cwtch and started to give me the biggest rollicking of my life, ‘You've let yourself down… You've let your mother down… What would she say if she was still alive?’ And the other comment which stuck in my mind was ‘When you hit someone, hit them hard enough that they don't get up!’

He asked me to meet him at his home in Cardiff on the Monday, just me and him. On arriving at his house, he threw about 20 university prospectuses at me and said ‘Choose a university. I am not letting you waste your life’.

Only one stood out for me, and that was the Royal Agricultural College, because it had a rugby player on the front and I also liked the idea of looking after large rural estates. I hadn't realised that, out of all of them, this was the only fee-paying one!

He told me to go and see the college (now a university) and see how I get on. My brother and I went along for the interview, and I got onto the foundation year which put me on track to do rural estate management.

Fast-forwarding 26 years, I am now an owner of one of the oldest surveying practices in the world (Farebrother – 221 years), and it was all down to the kind words and help for four years from Peter Thomas. A wonderful man who I owe a lot to.

Thank you, Uncle Pete.

Charlie Thompson

Fossils Found

Here's a TNT that blew me away. I had my 10-year-old daughter with me for the weekend, and she'd been begging to go fossil hunting with me. I'd bought her a sharp-edged archaeologist hammer, a chisel and some other tools, so we set off to a site we'd found through research online, about an hour from home. It was pretty cold, and the site was an old railway cutting that was quite exposed and used by a lot of local dog walkers. There was only one place to park by the fence to the site, and we left the car there and walked down.

After about an hour, we'd had some limited success with some small finds, but enough to really make Amelie happy with the day. Helping Amelie crack a piece of stone open, the hammer slipped and spilt my nail and fingertip open. Amelie was devastated that I was hurt, and, although I was in agony, I insisted it was okay and that we could carry on.

We walked a bit further and stopped to talk to a dog walker on the way, explaining what we were doing and how excited Amelie was at the prospect of maybe finding a small ammonite. She mentioned that she lived nearby and had seen loads in her garden when they were landscaping and was sure we'd find something. I hadn't realised my hand was bleeding quite as badly as it was, until the dog walker noticed I'd turned her wolfhound's ear red! She asked if I wanted any help with it, but I felt it would be okay, and she walked on and wished us good luck.

We got back to the car about an hour later and saw a plastic bag tied to the car door handle. I had no idea what it was, and to be honest wasn't too sure about looking in it, but I had to take it off to open the door. Inside, with no note or details, was a collection of amazing fossils, including two ammonites, one of which was the size of a saucer.

Perhaps, singularly the nicest random act of kindness I have ever experienced.

Adam Cook

Vicky

My TNT. The dictionary definition of tiny is ‘very small, minute’. Indeed, it only took a second to swipe the inside of one's cheek to collect some minute cells – invisible yet invaluable to those needing them – place this little magic wand in the special sealed envelope provided and pop it in the nearest post box. This was the first tiny step of my memorable TNT.

It was 24th June 2017 and 30 years to the day since I had participated as a donor in a bone marrow transplant, with my adored twin sister Vicky as recipient. Vicky had been diagnosed New Year's Day 1987 with a rare bone cancer. After completing chemotherapy, she was advised that a transplant would be her best chance of survival. We were the first identical twin to twin bone marrow transplant in the UK, but tragically Vicky died in October the same year, owing to the cancer returning and this time untreatable. In the 30th anniversary year of our transplant, and coming up to our 40th birthday, a milestone I'd be sadly marking alone, I had an idea to try and get 40 people to sign up to the Bone Marrow and Stem Cell register – I put out a post on social media asking friends to sign up.

Again, the dictionary definition of noticeable is ‘easily seen or noticed; clear or apparent’. What was initially apparent was the individual TNTs of those signing up in memory of Vicky, sending back pictures of their DIY Swab Kits and then, upon receipt of their Potential Donor ID cards, posting on social media. Not just merely ‘noticeable’, each one was a huge boost to the spirit, shifting focus – from all that my family had lost – to the hope that such small acts of kindness could each prevent a family from having to go through the devastating loss of their loved one. Friends started sharing the post to their friends, and I rapidly lost count of the sign-ups. The original target of 40 sign-ups was surpassed in the first 24 hours, and I stopped trying to keep track after the hundreds. It's impossible now to know exactly how many people signed up and took a minute of their time to do something great. I'll never know every single sign-up, each individual act of kindness sparked by the initial Facebook post. Many TNTs, small but powerful acts of kindness, can have a ripple effect out into the universe way beyond our knowledge of them.

www.dkms.org.uk/en

www.anthonynolan.org

Angela Henderson

Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.

– Mother Teresa

For Féah

I ordered some clothes for Féah that didn't come.

A girl called Emily from Maidstone in Kent found my parcel that had fallen off a truck. She took a picture of my address and sent me this lovely card along with some baby grows for Féah. How amazing is she – a complete stranger.

If anyone knows an Emily from Maidstone, please tell her she's completely restored my faith in humanity.

Caoimhe Mcconway

A Load Off My Mind

I had just given birth to my daughter and was very busy trying to balance my time between the baby and my two sons, who were both under seven at the time.

Thankfully, my amazing support network of family and friends came through to help out and make this time a little easier.

As a surprise, my good friend Louise arranged for someone to collect my washing and take it away for ironing, every week for a month.

This was genuinely so helpful, and it gave me that little bit of extra time during the day to feel more like myself.

While life-changing gestures are grand, a thoughtful TNT can go a long way for someone who needs it.

Andrea Charlton

TNTs ARE THE GLUE THAT BOND THE STRONGEST RELATIONSHIPS

Happy Days

Back in the 1980s on a road trip through France, I got lost and ended up in a small town late at night. I went into a bar to see if they could direct me to a hotel. The bar owner insisted that I sit and have a drink with him and his pals, and for me not to worry about the hotel – they wouldn't even hear of me paying for a drink all night.

Many drinks later, the bar owner took me and a few of his friends to a little club owned by his sister where we played billiards and drank champagne cognac – again, my money was no good there.

Sometime in the early hours, the guy and his friends took me to a wonderful little boutique hotel and wished me a good night. I woke up the next morning and had a great breakfast; after that, I went to the reception to check out, only to be told my friends had already paid.

I can't remember his name or even the name of the town, but I hope he's having a long and happy life.

Here's another little incident that left a big impression on me.

Back in 1975, I was working backstage at the Apollo Theatre in the West End, and my job was up in the fly gallery above the stage, flying the scenery in and out. It was a blazingly hot Saturday in August, the heat from the stage lighting was off the scale and the sweat was dripping off me as I descended the ladder after the curtain came down on the matinee.

As I reached the stage, the star of the play, Sir Alec Guinness, was standing there with his dresser, who was carrying a wooden crate. Sir Alec reached into the crate, took off the top and handed me an ice-cold bottle of Guinness.

He said, ‘Here you go my boy, you look like you need cooling down’. It was such a lovely gesture I almost wept with gratitude.

Brendan Reidy

Kettle's On

Every Monday morning at 10 am, pensioner Gladys Watkins from Market Drayton, Shropshire, would have a pot of tea, along with plates piled high with buttered toast, all ready for the dustbin men's mid-morning break in her back garden. She'd have a chat with the six of them, catching up with all the local gossip and having a good laugh, which she loved. Whilst they finished off their brews and rounds of toast, she'd be out the front of the house, chucking piled up black bin bags into the back of their parked-up wagon.

When she passed away, they sent a lovely card saying how much the lads all thought of my mum. She certainly was a one-off.

Mal Watkins

Keeping It Clean

Whilst enjoying a lovely family stroll along the seafront at Hythe last weekend, I spotted this wonderful TNT.

What a great idea!

Jane Tweed

Two-Wheel Therapy

In 2014, I was diagnosed with a heart condition, and I had surgery to replace a defective valve in June last year. I took the decision that it was time to leave work and start doing the things I really enjoy – so, aged 61, I did just that and retired from full-time employment.

My passion has become the great outdoors and, in particular, cycling – I have completed around 6500 km on my bike since my op. This new-found love has led me to become heavily involved in a local cycling group around where I live in Sandhurst.

I find people coming to see me in my garage at home where I provide a help service, using the skills I learnt as an engineer in the army, fixing bikes, but not just that. People come to me to talk and discuss their issues, and I discover through my own life experiences that what I plant in their heads makes them happy, and they keep coming back. My garage is almost like a surgery where people can talk openly about problems, share their thoughts and chew the cud in a safe environment.

Yes, I have my pensions, my house, my family and even a charity that I actively support – Heart Valve Voice – but my real passion is to tweak people's thoughts as well as their bikes and help them on their way. I never thought I would be seen as a wise old sage, but it gives me great joy to share my personal story and help lift the weight from some burdened shoulders with little seeds of inspiration.

Sadly, I lost my mum in May, which has made this period even harder, but I get that injection of dopamine each time I achieve a new milestone, and especially when people tell me that what I have gone through and managed to achieve has helped them.

I am delighted that my TNT story is being included in this book, even if it's just to show my grandchildren that ‘gramps’ is not always ‘grumps’!

Ian Berry

Good Samaritan

My mum was walking the 10-minute journey to her local supermarket through woodland. She tripped and fell over a tree root, hurting her wrist and breaking some teeth. Fortunately for her, a young lady who was on her way to work at the supermarket stopped to help her.

Despite making her late for work, the young lady accompanied my mum back to her home. My mum, who has dementia, called me to tell me what had happened, but unfortunately couldn't remember this kind person's name. However, she did remember that she had mentioned that this was her last day as she was changing jobs.

Armed with this information, I went to the supermarket to say ‘thank you’. The staff helped me to identify her. She explained that her grandmother had had a fall a few weeks earlier, and she would have liked someone to have helped her. She made light of what she had done, saying anyone would have done the same. I asked her if she had got into trouble for being late, and she had. Sadly, she had felt unable to explain, as she thought she may not have been believed.

I offered to explain to her manager, but she declined. I gave her a bunch of flowers, we had a hug together, and I told her just how much her act of kindness meant to me and my mum. It is the TNTs that make all the difference.

Sarah Clarke

Stranger in the Night

About five years ago, my partner and I landed in Los Angeles for a holiday. By the time the shuttle bus got to our apartment from the airport, it was late at night, about 11.30 pm.

It was apparent that the shuttle had got the wrong ZIP code and left us in the wrong part of town. We were on the street in the dark with our baggage, having just stepped off a 12-hour flight, and we had been up for the best part of 30 hours.

We saw a man in his dressing gown with a glass of red wine walk by. He asked if we were okay, and as soon as we spoke, he said, ‘Oh, you guys are British’.

After explaining the situation, he called an Uber for us, which at the time no one from the UK was aware of. He refused to take any money and stayed with us until the car arrived.

Just out of interest, I asked how he'd come to be walking down the street late at night in a dressing gown, holding a glass of wine. He said, ‘It's simple, me and my wife just had an argument, and I'm walking around the block to cool off. Welcome to LA!’

Darren Stanton

Free Parking

Parking pay stations are not easy to navigate. I was recently in my local hospital queueing to pay for my parking after my visit. The lady in front of me was struggling with the payment, and her coins were being randomly rejected from the machine. I offered to help, and she explained that her husband was staying in the hospital for a week, and that her ticket was for seven days as it was cheaper than buying one each day.

I helped her out by entering her car details and paid contactless for her week's parking. She offered me her handful of coins, which I declined. She was extremely grateful and thanked me over and over again.

If I had managed to make her day a little better – who knows? If her husband was okay and left the hospital at the end of his stay – who knows? She was an elderly lady, and I just hope she saw it as a random act of kindness – a good old-fashioned TNT.

Paula Pattison

Merry Christmas

Whilst working as a roadie at the O2, I used to buy a homeless veteran, known locally as ‘Billy the tramp’, cups of tea and bacon sandwiches. I used to enjoy chatting to him.

At Christmas, Billy bought me a Xmas card.

It was a very touching moment for me, because it was someone with nothing thinking of someone else.

Adam Farmer

Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.

– Mark Twain

For Me

Just short of seven years ago, I suffered a major stroke at the age of 53. It left me very weak down the left-hand side. Prior to my stroke, I was heavily left-handed.

My TNTs were relearning:

• How to put my socks on
• How to tie my shoelaces

During my eight weeks in hospital, I used crossword puzzle books and the crosswords in newspapers to teach myself to write right-handed – slowly and deliberately, using smaller puzzles to try and keep my letters within the box whilst at the same time taxing my brain for the answers. Then, when I felt I'd done all that I could, I'd fill the remaining empty boxes just to practise the lettering.

Even now I continue my recovery:

• I use cufflinks most days to force the dexterity in my left hand – I'm now working with double-cuffs
• Being a keen home mechanic/DIY person, I take every opportunity to ‘fiddle’ in the garage, putting nuts and bolts together – again, forcing me to use my left fingers

Andy Hunter

Toll Free

Every time I was with my mate Mike and we went through the toll booths at the Dartford Crossing, he used to pay the toll charge for the person in the car behind.

Looking in the mirror and seeing their reaction was priceless, and whenever one of these complete strangers overtook us, there was always a very big smile on their face!

Martin Maytum

Why Aye

My dad Stan was a born-and-bred Geordie who retired along with my mum to live in the village of Burn near Selby. He worked part time in the local pub (The Wheatsheaf) and was known well by all the regulars, until he eventually stopped about five years ago. He died in September 2019 of prostate cancer at the age of 80. The funeral was on a Friday some weeks later.

The landlord of the pub insisted on shutting the pub to normal customers during lunchtime so that friends and family could gather in the pub for the wake, despite Friday normally being their best day for trade.

On arrival at the pub after the funeral, we were greeted with a pump of Brown Cow Brewery blond ale with a picture of dad on the beer label, with the name ‘Howay The Lad’.

Both things meant a lot to the family and ensured he had a fantastic send-off.

Paul Mews

Roadside Assistance

I was travelling along in my car when I saw an elderly gentleman walking slowly down the road towards me carrying a petrol can.

I stopped and asked him the obvious question, ‘Have you run out of fuel?’ He replied rather sorrowfully, ‘Yes I have’.

I hadn't seen a fuel station for quite a few miles so I knew he would struggle to find one nearby – there were no sat-navs or mobile phones in those days.

Fortunately, due to having a temperamental fuel gauge, I had a full petrol can in the back of my old banger.

I gave him a lift back to his car and emptied my petrol into his petrol tank.

We checked if his car would start, and, after a few turns of the engine, it sparked into life. He was very grateful and offered to pay me for the fuel. I didn't take any money. Instead, I just asked him that he do the same if he saw someone in a similar situation. I can't remember what he said back to me, but I do remember him becoming emotional – I knew by the expression on his face that he would.

When I pulled away in my car and looked in the mirrors, I saw him wave and I started to well up. ‘WOW’, did I feel good!

Mark Shaw

No Flowers

A few years ago, on Valentine's Day, I was in my HSBC branch drawing some cash when I overheard a member of staff consoling a student who was very upset as she had no money.

The member of staff was very kind, but there was not much she could do. It was heart-breaking, so I drew an extra £50 from the cash point and, as I was leaving, gave it to her.

I had just separated from my wife at the time, and it was upsetting to see this young lady in such distress. I was struggling a bit financially myself but could always put food on the table – and besides, I was saving on the cost of a Valentine's bunch of flowers. Just wish I could have done more.

Martin

Good Neighbour

The day we moved into our current house, a warm August day some 19 years ago, we were wrestling with boxes and furniture – it was chaos, as every house move is … and then there's a knock at the door. It was our new neighbour, a lady in her sixties, who we had never met before. She had come to invite us to dinner with her and her husband, THAT evening – but we have two children – ‘Yes’, she said, ‘all of you’, that evening, and she wouldn't take ‘no’ for an answer.

When evening came, we were shattered, and so grateful for that meal. She had no idea who we were, or what she was letting herself in for – a true act of kindness.

Gill

Cheers!

I was sitting in the bar of the beautiful Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans a year ago with my husband Jamie and our two friends, Thomas and Emily. We were enjoying late-night cocktails and chatted briefly with two guys, both Americans. It was the shortest of encounters.

They left before we did – we didn't even notice them leave, and they didn't say goodbye. When we came to settle our bar bill, the waitress told us that they had paid for our drinks!

Literally, just like that … made us so happy!

Was a total, no-strings-attached, random act of kindness.

BUT, it made me do my own anonymous TNT when I got back to England – made me feel so good!

Alex Meaders

Sweet Thing to Do

The winter holidays have begun, and I am preparing for my first commute home since my arrival at university. I have around 30 minutes between my last seminar ending and my train leaving to finish packing and get to the station. Last night, I handed in three essays for the end of term, and, as a result, I am carrying my own weight in hastily packed bags and running on two hours of sleep and a Diet Coke.

Problems start at Paddington when I cannot fit my comically sized bag with me through the train door and, out of panic caused by the growing, annoyed crowd behind me, I throw my bag off the train. I realise that I barely know where I am going, I don't have much time between trains and there is no way that I am going to be able to run with this impractical bag to the next platform. I have already spent an exhausting four hours on the train, yet this is just the first leg of the journey.

I have been told that London commuters are ruthless, but it is only because of the strangers who take time out of their rushed journeys home on a Friday to help me that I find my way. One older gentleman helps me carry my bag up some steep stairs and on the tube which I think is going to Victoria, I meet Tori.

I'm feeling self-assured that I have finally made it onto the homestretch, but just to be sure, I decide to check with fellow passenger Tori if the tube is heading where I think it is … only to find out that it is going in the opposite direction. I start to cry, and everyone looks away, apart from Tori. Even though it means going out of her way, she takes out her headphones, helps me map my journey on her phone, takes a bag handle and marches me across London via tubes and all the way to my final platform at Victoria.

She chats to me on the way, and, when she hears my stomach rumbling, she pulls out four giant bags of sweets – which she was given earlier in a product design meeting – and says that I can keep them (I am starving!). She has already shown me more than enough kindness by helping me to find my way, but this effort to lift the spirits of a stranger who feels lost and alone in London really put the cherry on the cake.

Rosie Webster

Checkout Delight

Today, when I was shopping at Lidl, a total stranger in the queue in front of me gave £30 to the checkout lady and told her to put it towards my shopping as he was trying to do one good deed a day! It paid for my entire shopping, and I was blown away by his kindness.

It was a most welcome gesture as I have had a tough couple of weeks. My husband of 45 years passed away recently, and I am having to adjust to a new life without him.

It made me realise how small acts of kindness can impact and really help someone's day. It inspired me to want to spread some kindness too.

Sue Ellway

A Personal Conception

Little short statements can change the life of millions. I am a recovered alcoholic and will be 39 years sober in October 2020.

I owe my recovery to working the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. These work on a pivotal principle – in Step 1, ‘We admitted we were powerless over alcohol…’; and in Step 3, we ‘Made a decision to turn our life and our will over to the care of God as we understood him’. One needs to surrender and turn everything over to a power greater than ourselves – a High Power.

Now, alcoholics are rebels by nature, and believing in any ‘religious’ god is usually a big non-runner. Ebby Thacher, friend of AA co-founder Bill Wilson in the early days, offered a suggestion to Bill, who was then deeply concerned that using ‘god’ would fend-off many would-be recipients of his message of recovery. Ebby said, ‘Why don't you use your own conception of god?’

This suggestion entirely transformed Bill's writings, and, to this day, ‘god’ in AA terms is one's own personal concept – thus, we have Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, etc., and also many non-religious members. It is the only group of people on the planet who must co-exist with complete acceptance of each another's spirituality as the result of, effectively, this one statement.

For myself, I just added an ‘o’, making ‘god’ simply the power of ‘good’!

Anon

Inclusive

Four TNT examples that, for me, have made a huge impact spring to mind:

A friend of mine was suffering from PTSD, so I bought her a dozen of her favourite Glazed Krispy Kreme doughnuts – and, under each doughnut, I placed a sticky note with a message of love and positivity.

I happened to mention in conversation to another friend that my books were costing me £50 plus – and, the next thing I knew, £50 was deposited into my bank account from her.

A friend lost a baby. I donated an olive tree in the baby's name and gifted it to her. In the absence of her baby growing, this tree can grow and one day bear fruit and medicine.

In the workplace, to embrace my religion, all colleagues were invited to fast for a day during Ramadan. It was just so nice and inclusive.

Telling people of the good things you may have done should be with the right intention and not to boast, and so I share these with you in the hope that they may be of benefit to you and spark ideas for your own family, friends and fellow-workers.

M. Khan

Star Struck

We had just landed at the airport from our fantastic school trip to New York and were all slowly moving along a long corridor packed full of new arrivals having just reclaimed our luggage. I was at the back of my group of school pals when I noticed someone up ahead struggling with an overflowing luggage trolley stacked high with clothing bags and shoes boxes, some of which were toppling off and ending up on the floor. Everyone was just walking past, so I stopped and offered to lend a hand collecting and carrying a few of their belongings. I scooped up a few shoe boxes and started walking with them, and then I realised that this person was Dizzee Rascal!

I carried his shoe boxes until the end of the corridor when we reached a suitable place to stop. Dizzee was so grateful that I'd stopped to help – and, to show his appreciation, he gave me his hat straight off his head.

Owen Watkins

The Ultimate Award

When I was 11, I was playing for Cornard Dynamos Under 12s in the centre of midfield. That season, we won everything, the league and two cups. As well as being captain, I was one of the best players, and so was looking forward to our end-of-season presentation awards evening with great anticipation.

By the end of the evening, I'd won diddly squat. ‘Players’ Player’, ‘Manager's Player’ and ‘Supporters’ Player’ awards had all ended up on somebody else's shelf. I was devastated.

I woke up the next morning and went down for breakfast to find, in the middle of the table, a small wooden shield with no engravings on it. My dad entered the kitchen and said, ‘That's yours boy, you did alright last season’.

Now that, coming from my dad, who was a tough East Ender who had never missed a game from when I was 6 to 16 and had only ever said ‘well played’ twice in those 10 years, was unbelievably emotional for me, as he knew me better than any coach I'd ever had.

My dad thought I was quite good, and that was enough for me.

Perry Groves

Our Not-So Tiny Noticeable Thing!

I had an awful time after the birth of our son. I had nine operations over a three-year period to try and fix the damage I suffered from his birth. I was continually in and out of hospital, and I was so ill. My fiancé, new baby and I lived with my parents for months, and would not have coped without them. Just as I started to get back on my feet, one of my discs shattered in my back, resulting in another few years of operations, life-long additional pain and physio – but, worst of all, we were told that I must not carry another child. We were devastated. We were desperate for a sibling for our son, so we started looking into surrogacy.

I was talking it over with my friend Roxanne during a trip to the park one day, and a couple of hours after we had left, she phoned me and said, ‘I'll do it. I'll carry your baby for you’. To say we were shocked and totally overwhelmed (but grateful beyond words) is an understatement. We were aching to accept, but we wanted her to research it all thoroughly before we did. It's no small thing to carry someone else's baby!

Fast forward two years, and Roxanne is 38 weeks pregnant with our second son, and we are four days away from the C-section! It has not been an easy journey either. She has carried our boy safely through a global pandemic despite being limited physically by unexpected pregnancy-related health issues whilst working full time with two children of her own! What an absolute superhero! Her fiancé Gav has supported her (and us) all the way without a single moan.

We will never be able to put into words how grateful we are to them both. Just writing this makes me so emotional. We have battled our way through some huge lows over the past 10 years, and our extraordinary friends have given us the biggest high, the most precious gift one couple could ever give another. This baby that we have longed for – for over seven years – is our fresh start. We are so excited! We cannot wait to see him in the arms of his big brother! Friday will be a very emotional day for us all, but it is not the end of our story. Our families will continue our friendship with an increased bond and a very special addition!

Lisa and James