On 2 February 2024 I met someone who changed the way I see kindness.

His name is J

full name withheld for privacy.

We met on Hindley Street on a night out. He was sitting in his usual spot, quiet and warm in a way that does not match the chaos around him. His energy was humble. Gentle. Almost protective. We started chatting and before I left I asked if we could exchange numbers, not out of pity but because something in me recognised something in him.

And for almost two years now J has shown me what gratitude, resilience and genuine goodness really look like.

At the beginning he never wanted to accept anything from me. He would always decline with humility and kindness. It took time, conversation and genuine trust building before he would allow me to buy him something small to get him through the night. Eventually he let me buy him a jar of coffee and slowly he accepted a few treats here and there. It was never about the money for him. It was about trust and dignity and feeling respected.

Over time I did a call out to rally some support for him and some beautiful people donated. After I sold Cora’s puppies I even kept some money aside especially for him because I knew he would use it wisely and it would make his life a little easier. Even then he received it with gratitude and humility, never wanting to take more than he truly needed.

Every time I messaged him he replied with the same unwavering kindness. Long thoughtful messages. Blessings for me, for Blake, for my family and friends. Blessings for my dogs. For my puppies. For my health. For my recovery. He remembers everything, the exact day of my surgery, my updates, even tiny details I forget I have told him.

And he always apologises if he replies late.

Not because he owes me anything but because he is that considerate.

He thanks me every single time, even when all I have done is say hello and checked in on him.

When I offer him help he always says he will only ask if he urgently needs any necessity. He never wants to burden anyone. He never assumes. He never expects.

When he has been unwell he still replies with warmth, wishing me excellent health, joy, happiness, safety, blessings and prosperity. His words every time feel like a prayer.

Even when he is injured, exhausted, cold or fasting for health reasons he still sends kindness first.

He sleeps rough. He deals with medical issues alone. He goes days without proper food. Yet he messages like someone writing from abundance, not scarcity.

J has this old soul way of speaking.

He writes like someone who grew up in a time when people took care with their words.

He signs every message with cheers or many blessings.

He says wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

He apologises for typos.

He worries about inconveniencing people who are only trying to help him.

He asks about the puppies by name.

He congratulates me on milestones.

He remembers holidays and sends greetings before I do.

He is one of the kindest and most gracious people I have ever known.

And this year Christmas means even more for him

because Christmas Day is also his birthday.

A day most people spend surrounded by food, gifts, warmth and family.

J spends it quietly, hoping for good health and safety and grateful for whatever blessings come his way.

So this year I want to make his Christmas and his birthday brighter.

I am collecting donations to give directly to him.

Every dollar goes straight into his hands.

J has never asked for anything from me, not once, despite all he has been through.

But I know how far even a little support would go for him.

If you feel called to contribute, from the bottom of my heart thank you.

If you cannot but have taken a moment to read this, thank you too. Compassion is its own kind of gift.

Let us give J a Christmas and birthday that remind him he is not forgotten.

Because the world is better with people like him in it

and he deserves to feel that.