Last year my daughter and I were on the train from Carlisle to Manchester.
There was a stag party, loud and pretty annoying, and getting cross looks from some passengers.
Then along comes an older lady, who couldn’t find her case. She was going from compartment to compartment, desperately searching.
One of the lads stands up, puts a hand on her shoulder and says:
“Don’t worry love, I’ll help you find it.”
The pair of them set about searching. Her station comes, and goes, and still the case isn’t found. She starts to cry. He takes her in his arms, gives her a soft hug and tells her that he’s not leaving her. He’ll stay with her till the case is found and until she’s gets to where she is going, even if it takes all day.
She asks him about his plans and says that she can’t ruin his day. He says that it doesn’t matter. He won’t leave her. He tells his mates that he’ll see them tomorrow and then the pair of them go off to find the conductor.
Over the next hour or so we watched as the case was found, and the two worked out a plan for how to get her back to her station. The lad had found a double seat in front of us and they spent the rest of their journey having the loveliest chat about her family, his family and the silly things they had both done in their lives.
It was the sweetest thing I have ever experienced.
And I wished it had been me who had jumped up to help. That lad sacrificed a stag night to help someone who could have been his Nan, and I think everyone in that compartment wished we were him, and we all had a smile on our face and a tear in our eye.