As a teenager my father was critically ill, dying of leukemia actually. My mother spent weeks and months with him in the hospital seeing to his needs. My sister and I were essentially orphans with living parents. Thee was a very kind lady in our community, who often cooked for us for Shabbat. The feasts this lady made for us were fit for a king. Stuffed cabbage, brisket, kugels, soup, cake, side dishes etc. From one shabbos of her’s we ate for ten days. And it was done out of the blue completely, and simply to be nice.
During the same time in my life, an aunt, who was no especially loved in our family (for reasons I never understood), noticed I had holes in my shoes and my suit was ridiculously small. One day she showed up at our house and took me shopping. New shoes feel very good when the old ones don’t function.
I’ve never forgotten those gratuitous acts of kindness done to a kid who was lonely, scared and in need. Ki avi v’imi azavuni, vaHashem y’aa’sfeini.