Creative Kindness . Spreading kindness about

29/12/2025

After the car accident, everyone survived 🌸. One woman was taken to hospital with internal injuries and needed surgery. She ended up in a quiet room, recovering, mostly alone 💜.

A young man — maybe nineteen or twenty — was in the hospital visiting his mum. On his way out, he passed the woman’s room. She looked up. He waved. She waved back 🦋. Something in that moment made him stop. She smiled and gently motioned for him to come in. He sat down… and just like that, they started talking. About nothing. About everything. As if they’d known each other forever ✨. No awkwardness. No explanations. Just ease. Her name was Marjorie — that was all he knew.

The next day, he came back to see his mum and told her about the old lady he’d met. His mum smiled and said Marjorie was still there — he should go say hello again 😊. He did. And once again, the same feeling. Words flowed. Time disappeared. Young man and old woman, sharing stories, laughter, quiet understanding 🌷.

When he came back the following day, Marjorie had been discharged. He felt a surprising sadness settle in his chest. He wished he could have known her longer — helped her, checked in on her, mowed her lawn, anything. But the hospital couldn’t give him her details, and that was that 💔.

Six months later, walking out of a coffee shop, he bumped straight into her ☕✨. Marjorie. From that day on, they were inseparable. He became her helper, her companion — mowing her lawn, collecting parcels, being there when she needed someone. And she became his adopted grandmother 💕.

Not by blood.
By kindness.

💜 This story was created by Amanda from Creative Kindness – Spreading Kindness About. Contact us or check out our webpage: creativekindness.com.au 🦋

Creative Kindness is an online op shop with brand new items straight from the supplier and unique preloved finds. Visit creativekindness.com.au or our page. Creative Kindness. Spreading Kindness About.

29/12/2025

Every morning on the way to work, there’s a quiet little rhythm that’s just hers ☀️💜. She walks in, takes her place, and looks for Chloe. If Chloe is already serving someone else, she doesn’t rush or squeeze forward. She simply steps aside, lets the other person serve the next customer in line, and waits 🦋. There’s no impatience in it — just choice. She chooses to wait. And when Chloe finally serves her, it feels right, like the moment landed exactly where it was meant to 😊🌸. A small act, barely noticed by anyone else, but it starts her day with calm, respect, and a soft reminder that some things are worth waiting for ✨💕

💜 This story was created by Amanda from Creative Kindness – Spreading Kindness About. Contact us or check out our webpage: creativekindness.com.au 🦋

Creative Kindness is an online op shop with brand new items straight from the supplier and unique preloved finds. Visit creativekindness.com.au or our page. Creative Kindness. Spreading Kindness About.

28/12/2025

28/12/2025

27/12/2025

27/12/2025

Click link below
👇
https://www.creativekindness.com.au/search?q=camera

📸✨ Kids Cameras That Spark Creativity & Fun! ✨📸

Looking for a gift that keeps kids busy and builds creativity? These kids’ cameras are an absolute hit — fun, educational, and perfect for curious little hands 💕

👧🧒 What you’ll find in our camera range:
📷 Kids digital cameras with 32GB memory cards
🦄 Cute designs like Unicorn cameras
🖨️ Instant print cameras (no ink needed!)
🤳 Selfie mode, games & HD screens
🎁 Perfect for birthdays, rewards, holidays or just-because gifts

These aren’t grown-up cameras — they’re made for learning, play, and imagination, helping kids explore the world through their own lens 🌈✨

💜 Stock is limited and some styles sell out fast — once they’re gone, they’re gone!
🦋 Ships straight to your door — easy, fun gifting made simple.

Click the link, have a browse, and grab one while they’re available 💕

27/12/2025

She opened her barn to 79 Hells Angels during a tornado.
Five days later, 300 bikers came back.

At 4:47 p.m., the sky went green.

Eleanor Briggs had lived in Hollister, Missouri, for sixty-eight years. She knew that color. It meant the world was about to tear itself apart.

She’d seen it twice before.
At twelve, when a tornado ripped through her family’s barn and killed three horses.
At forty-one, when another one took her husband, Thomas.

The sirens had been screaming for nearly twenty minutes. This wasn’t an ordinary storm. An EF4 tornado—winds over 170 miles an hour—was bearing down on her land.

Eleanor’s farmhouse was tired, like she was. The roof leaked. Paint peeled. After Thomas died, the medical bills took everything. But beneath the barn was a reinforced concrete storm cellar, poured by her father after the tornado of ’67.

It had saved her once.
It would save her again.

She was turning toward the house when she saw headlights.

Dozens of them.

Motorcycles leaned hard against the wind on Route 76. The riders were fighting to stay upright. Open fields stretched for miles—no shelter, nowhere to go.

One bike went down. Another rider stumbled. The sky darkened even more.

Then she saw the patches.

HELLS ANGELS.

Every instinct told her to run. Lock the doors. Get underground.

Instead, Eleanor rang the dinner bell.

Clang.
Clang.
Clang.

She waved both arms toward the barn.

The lead rider—a man called Bishop—looked from the churning sky to the small woman in a floral apron, then back to the funnel forming behind them.

He didn’t hesitate.

Seventy-nine motorcycles poured into her driveway.

“THE CELLAR’S IN THE BACK!” Eleanor shouted over the roar. “HURRY!”

They shoved bikes into the barn and rushed underground—
seventy-nine bikers,
one elderly woman,
and a concrete cellar shaking like the end of days.

The tornado passed directly overhead.

When the noise finally faded, Bishop clicked on a flashlight.

“You okay, ma’am?”

“I’m fine,” Eleanor said. “There’s coffee in the thermos. Blankets in the chest. You boys look cold.”

He stared at her.

“You know who we are?”

“I do,” she said gently. “But the Good Book says to shelter the stranger. It doesn’t say to check their patches first.”

Something shifted in that room.

They drank coffee. Ate peaches from a jar. Sat in shared silence. Told stories.

Then Bishop noticed an old black-and-white photo on the wall—a man leaning over a motorcycle, grease on his hands.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

“My husband. Thomas. Best mechanic around.”

Bishop went still.

“Did he run a shop called Tommy’s Rebore back in the late ’70s?”

“Yes… why?”

Bishop removed his helmet.

“In 1979, some of our founders crashed nearby. No police help. No ambulance. One mechanic loaded our bikes, fixed them for free, and let us sleep in his shop so we wouldn’t get arrested. He saved a man’s leg.”

He pointed to the photo.

“That was Thomas.”

Eleanor cried without a sound.

When the storm cleared, the damage was brutal. The barn roof was gone. The house torn open. She had no insurance.

This, she thought, was the end.

The bikers left.

Five days later, Eleanor sat in her driveway, staring at the wreckage.

Then she heard it.

Not wind.

Engines.

Three hundred Harley-Davidsons rolled down Route 76. Behind them came trucks—lumber, cement, tools—and a brand-new tractor.

Bishop stepped forward.

“We told the club about Thomas,” he said. “And about you.”

He handed her an envelope.

Inside was fifty thousand dollars in cash.

“That’s for the bills and the taxes,” he said. Then he gestured to the men already unloading gear.
“And the rest of us? We’re not leaving until this place looks better than new.”

For two weeks, they rebuilt everything.

And when they finally rode away, Eleanor wasn’t alone anymore.

They called her the Grandmother of the Charter.

26/12/2025

26/12/2025

On a Friday afternoon in Toowoomba, a small music shop owner counted the till, locked up, and headed home — not realising the front door had been left wide open.

That Friday night passed. No alarms. No phone calls. No one noticed a thing.

On Saturday morning, driving past the shop, the open door stopped us cold. Something was wrong. We rushed inside, bracing ourselves for the worst — but nothing had been touched. Guitars still hung neatly on the walls. Trumpets sat where they always had. Sheet music lay undisturbed. The coins were still there. Every note of cash remained in the till.

Not a single thing was missing.

About two minutes later, a young homeless girl quietly walked in. She looked around gently and asked, “Can I play you something?” Before anyone could answer, she picked up a guitar and began to play Noel. The shop filled with the most beautiful, peaceful sound.

As she played, the shop owner looked toward the doorway — and standing there was an angelic being, glowing, still, watching over the room. Then a quiet knowing came: the door had been open… but it had never truly been unguarded.

“I stood guard all night long,” was the message felt deep in the soul.

And just like that, the girl finished playing. The moment passed. The shop stood untouched. Protected.

A real God story. A reminder that sometimes protection doesn’t come with noise or fear — it comes with unseen presence, quiet faith, and grace standing watch when no one else knows to look.

💜 This story was created by Amanda from Creative Kindness – Spreading Kindness About. Check out our webpage: creativekindness.com.au 🦋

Creative Kindness is an online op shop with brand new items straight from the supplier and unique preloved finds. Visit creativekindness.com.au or our page. Creative Kindness. Spreading Kindness About.

26/12/2025

A Woolworths worker was standing near the checkout after a long shift, uniform worn, feet aching, just quietly watching the afternoon rush.

Ahead of him, a little girl proudly carried a carton of eggs for her mum, holding it carefully with both hands. As they reached the counter, the carton slipped. Eggs smashed across the floor, the sharp crack stopping everyone around them.

The little girl froze. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, already crying.

Before anyone could react, the Woolworths worker stepped forward and knelt down to her level. “Hey,” he said gently, “that wasn’t naughty — it was just an accident. Eggs can be tricky.” He smiled until she smiled back.

He signalled to the cashier, paid for a replacement carton of eggs, and handed the receipt to the mum. When she tried to refuse, he shook his head and said, “She was helping. That matters.”

The little girl held the new carton close as they left — not embarrassed, not afraid — just proud.

Because sometimes kindness isn’t loud. Sometimes it’s one calm moment that teaches a child it’s safe to try.

💜 This story was created by Amanda from Creative Kindness – Spreading Kindness About. Check out our webpage: creativekindness.com.au 🦋

Creative Kindness is an online op shop with brand new items straight from the supplier and unique preloved finds. Visit creativekindness.com.au or our page. Creative Kindness. Spreading Kindness About.