I was tasked to process the registration papers of our company at the securities commission. I lived far, and I was oftentimes pressed for time given my other responsibilities. Once I had to do two more tasks before finally declaring the job finished; I had to have the papers received, and then pay for it at the cashier.

Rushing to the office receiving the papers, I was dismayed at the number of people on queue. The officers were entairtaining customers holding queue numbers 72 and 73. I was holding number 130. I sat down dazedly, thinking of the consequences of spending a lot of time in that office. It would mean missing the cut-off time at the cashier, meaning, in turn, that I would have to make another 4-hour trip just to pay.

My feelings must have shown on my face, for the man next to me asked me if I was okay. I smiled at him, and briefly told him why.

"Don't worry," he said, and gave me a number. 78.

I couldn't believe my eyes. "You're giving me this?" I said. "What about you?"

It turned out that the man's number was 77. Number 78 was an extra that he had purposefully taken, not for himself, but for someone who needs it most. He said that whenever he's at the queue, he takes two numbers. There's bound to be people like me, he added, who needs the extra time that he can give them.

Almost tearfully, I took what he offered, feeling so much gratitude for the thoughtfulness of that unknown man. I held on to my number, and going out of the office, I noticed that another woman was tearfully looking at her slip of paper. It said 165. I tapped her shoulder and gave her my number 130. When I saw the joy and gratitude in her face, I felt good too, and I realized that this must be the same feeling that drove the unknown man to do what he did. I was only too glad to pass on the kindness that I received from him.