At the grocery store, I was dressed simply in an old thrift-store sweater. The cashier, a young man named Josh, acted strangely—staring at my sweater and then suddenly offering to buy it for $500. Confused, I agreed to talk outside during his break.

Josh shared that his late grandmother, who raised him after his parents died, knitted sweaters with a small heart on the sleeve—a special signature of her love. The sweater I wore had that heart. It was one of hers, and he’d been searching for something she made ever since she passed away.

Touched, I gave him the sweater. Josh held it close, tears streaming, saying I’d given him a piece of his grandmother back.

That day reminded me how small acts of kindness can heal deep wounds and how important it is to look beyond appearances and listen to others’ stories.