A girl waves to the train that passes by every day. Three years later, the train driver sees a poster on the window

When was the last time you showed kindness to an unknown individual?Even if you believe that this is a pointless question and that you shouldn’t bother trying to help someone you don’t even know, keep in mind that doing good is always worthwhile.Behaving kindly toward others, even complete strangers you see on a daily basis, has a greater positive impact on their life than you may realize.Furthermore, you never know who among those total strangers will stick around and end up playing a significant role in your life.The tale, shared on the Facebook page *Love What Matters* by Briana Hefley Shepard, describes the peculiar bond that developed between a small girl named Rio and the train conductors who were eagerly awaiting her greeting from their enormous window.Your heart will melt at this story.Ensure that you finish reading the story.About three years ago, our company relocated to the new site.Because of its proximity to the railroad lines, we have a front-row seat to observe all the locomotive activity.The workers quickly noticed Rio extending a greeting to them, and they returned the kind.

They made it into a ritual over time.They let out a whistle, she hurried to the window, they opened their windows, and all of them grinned broadly.Almost every time, I would cry. Then Rio began attending school a few weeks ago.I was impacted by her daycare adjustment a bit more than I had anticipated, but more on the first day when the train passed and she wasn’t present.They opened their windows and whistled, but I was the only one crying and hesitantly waving.Next day, I created a placard.All I wrote was, “She started school.”When I heard the whistle, I hurried to the window and waved my placard.That was three weeks ago. “Oh, I shed a tear.”

Someone knocked on the door this morning, nearly minutes after I entered the store.It was a dude with earbuds hanging down who was wearing a bright yellow t-shirt.Because that’s what we do here, I assumed it was a construction worker who wanted to discuss construction-related topics.I was in error. He had come to inquire about the blonde girl who was greeting the trains.Everyone was curious about her whereabouts as she was an employee.They stopped higher up the tracks, came to our building, and knocked on our door because they had a short train today.Oh, I did cry.Despite having seen my placard, they were unable to read what it said.

Though they had to double check, they had believed she had started school.Her greetings, he added, brightened their day.For three years, they had shared these times together. They miss her and want to do something for her.When they inquired about sending her something, I answered, “Of course!”In a few weeks, they will send her a birthday present.Throughout the past few years, it has been nothing short of miraculous to see their unusual bond.I feel optimism and love knowing that they have been impacted just as much as we have.My faith in mankind and goodness has been reinforced by their presence today and their ongoing generosity to Rio.These are the times we shall never forget.

My Boyfriend Ended Our Relationship and Gave Me an Invoice for All He ‘Spent on Me’

When Kyra discovers, by accident, that her boyfriend, Henry, has been cheating on her, she goes completely numb. Until he sends her an invoice for everything that he had ever spent on her. Fueled by her anger, Kyra fights back, exposing Henry for who he is and asking for her monetary rewards in return.

We’ve all heard of crazy boyfriend or ex-boyfriend stories—I mean, when I was in college, it was a common sleepover story.

I’ve heard of the boyfriend who wanted to taste everything his girlfriend ate—before she did. And an ex-boyfriend who demanded that his ex-girlfriend help him study for finals because it was her fault that he wasn’t able to concentrate.

But I didn’t expect my relationship to turn into one of those stories.

I had been dating Henry for two years. We had met in college at a party and after a night of drunken conversation over fries, we ended up dating.

Our relationship wasn’t perfect—in fact, over the course of it, we had broken up three times.

“Come on, Kyra,” Henry said. “We either get back together or we break up for good.”

It was the defining moment in our relationship because Henry was the one who wanted to call the shots. He wanted us to stay together, and I wanted us to call it a day.

Over the years, Henry and I had gotten into enough fights, motivating me to turn to therapy to help me cope with the stress of it.

“And yet,” my friend Brent said, “you still remain with him.”

It was just another ordinary Friday evening and Henry had come over to my place. We were going to eat pizza and watch series until we fell asleep.

A few hours into the evening, Henry had fallen asleep on the couch and I casually reached over to grab his phone to check the time.

But I was completely unprepared for everything that followed.

Just as I picked up Henry’s phone, his screen lit up with a text message from another girl.

Hey, babe! See you later or are we meeting tomorrow?

“Hey, who’s this?” I asked, nudging him awake and handing him the phone with a puzzled look.

Henry snatched the phone from my hand in a fury, his face clouding over.

“Kyra, why are you reading my messages?” he snapped, his tone defensive.

“I was just looking for the time,” I stammered. “My phone is on charge in the kitchen. I wasn’t snooping or anything.”

Henry stood up, took a swig of his now room-temperature beer, and paced around my living room.

“This is my private stuff, Kyra,” he accused. “You shouldn’t be looking at all.”

Before I could process what was happening, Henry began putting his shoes on, and then he made a final decision about our relationship.

“I think we’re done here. I can’t trust you anymore!”

And with that, he left my apartment.

Stunned, I watched him leave. We were over in the blink of an eye after two years.

I couldn’t understand if I felt relief or devastation. I would miss Henry, of course, but at the same time—I didn’t think that this was the worst thing.

Henry had been emotionally manipulating me for a long time, but I had felt a familiarity with him. And that had made it easier to stay with him.

It was the comfort of being with a familiar person, despite the heartache that came with them.

I could hear my mother’s words loud in my head.

“Kyra,” she would say, “You’re too smart to be playing a game like this. Let go of the dead weight. Henry has been nothing but dead weight since your first big fight.”

And she would be correct.

I decided to take a shower, I needed to lull my body into a sense of relaxation so that I could just let go and sleep.

And then it truly dawned on me—the reason for the breakup now was because I had caught Henry cheating on me. At first, I was too stunned. I was stunned by the fact that he had walked out on me.

But I finally managed to realize that he had actually been dating another woman. And had no idea how long it had been going on for.

The thought was too much for me to comprehend. I had so many questions running through my mind—how long had Henry been cheating on me? Who was the other person? What would have happened if I hadn’t found out?

The next few days were a complete blur—I felt a sense of relief knowing that I was untied to Henry. But at the same time, I felt hollow and a bit raw.

I found myself crying—not for Henry, but for myself. And through it all, I couldn’t understand why I was so upset.

While making a cup of tea, an email pinged on my laptop, signaling me to my desk.

It was from Henry.

Hoping for an apology, I opened it immediately—only to find a detailed bill listing every single expense that Henry claimed to have incurred on my behalf over the duration of our relationship.

Kyra, please make the payment soon. I need to move on, and you need to make things right with me. I cannot believe I wasted so much time and money on you.

I saw red—a hazy fury took over my sight. My head pounded, and my heart was ready to burst with the flood of feelings that were unleashed by Henry’s email.

“This is insane!” I screamed at the screen.

I shut off my laptop and made myself some soup. Henry and his delusional state of mind could wait. I wasn’t going to pay anything back. I was done with him.

As I cut up some garlic bread, I had an idea.

My friend, Brent, who hated Henry—was a lawyer and he loved a challenge.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said, calling him while I waited for the soup to get ready. “I’ve got a bit of a situation with Henry, and I think I need to hit back with something clever.”

Brent was intrigued. He chuckled and asked me to explain.

“Tell me everything, Kyra,” he said.

The next day, I met Brent at a coffee shop, where we planned on thinking up the next step where I could get back at Henry.

Brent ordered us coffee and pastries, while I pulled up the email from Henry.

As we laid out his claims against my emotional tolls—the late-night anxiety, the therapy costs—he burst out laughing.

“This is actually genius. Let’s draft up a counter-invoice.”

Our response was meticulously calculated, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction sending it back to him.

This inspired me to start a blog about my journey of recovery and empowerment. To my surprise, the blog resonated with many, and soon, a publisher reached out with an interest in turning my experiences into a book.

On the other hand, Henry’s pursuit for repayment dwindled, especially once he realized the potential public fallout and legal ramifications.

“I cannot believe that you did that, Kyra,” Henry said. “People are messaging me constantly now. Why would you embarrass me like that? Why would you post the invoice I sent you? You owe me!”

I sat in front of the TV and let Henry vent on speaker.

I had absolutely no intention of explaining myself. My blog did expose him—and sure, I did post the invoice. But it was my way of healing through the entire ordeal.

But as always, Henry had to make it about himself. He commented on some of the blog posts, stating that I was yet to pay him for everything.

In reply, other readers let him have it—calling him out on his selfishness.

When Brent came over for dinner, he sat down and chuckled.

“Looks like Henry got the message,” Brent said. “He has dropped all demands. It seems like he just didn’t want to risk any further exposure.”

In the end, not only did I manage to counter his pettiness with strength, but I also carved out a new path for myself.

This wasn’t just about a breakup recovery—it was a rebirth.

What would you have done?

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