A Dollar Tree, a Stranger, and a Full Heart
TikTok video from 2022-10-04
I just had one of those unexpected moments—the kind that catches you off guard, floods your chest with warmth, and reminds you that people are still good.
These are happy tears. Truly.
We’re not home right now. We’re from Florida, and while our house made it through Hurricane Ian mostly okay, the power is out. And it's expected to stay that way for at least another week. So, like many others displaced by the storm, we’re making it work. We’re staying with friends in Boston—grateful, but freezing.
Now, if you’ve ever lived in Florida and then spent time in New England in the fall, you know what I mean when I say: our bodies are not prepared. We are shivering. Layers on layers, and still cold.
So we made a quick run to Dollar Tree to pick up some hand warmers. Just something simple to take the edge off while we wait out the storm aftermath from afar.
I got to chatting with the cashier, just making small talk. I mentioned that we were from Florida, here because of Ian, and just trying to keep warm. I said, “We’re not used to this weather anymore,” and we laughed about how hard it is to find hand warmers in stock, not to mention how expensive they can be elsewhere.
Then something happened that surprised me.
She paused, looked at me with genuine concern, and said, “Oh my God. Do you need anything? Are you okay?”
She wasn’t asking to be polite. She meant it.
Do you need sweatshirts? Sweaters? Anything?
And I almost cried right there in the checkout line.
I told her, “No, no—we’re okay. We’re staying with friends. We’re just cold.” But she wasn’t done. She said it again:
“If you need anything… anything at all…”
It was such a simple thing. Just one human reaching out to another. No fanfare. No expectation. Just kindness.
And in that moment, I felt so held.
There’s something about the generosity of strangers that hits differently when you’re vulnerable. When you’ve had to leave your home. When you're cold. When you're tired. When you're trying to hold it all together but you’re a little frayed around the edges.
This woman didn’t know me. But she cared.
So now, here I am with warm hands, a warmer heart, and a reminder that even in chaos—even in storms, displacement, power outages, and uncertainty—there’s still connection. There’s still empathy. There’s still kindness.
To everyone who has reached out, kept us in their thoughts, or offered a moment of comfort, whether in person or from afar—thank you.
You matter more than you know.
We’re okay.
We’re cold.
But we’re surrounded by warmth.
