A young child hands his struggling teacher the pen she was reaching for.

A sister gives her stressed brother quiet time when he is reviewing for a big exam.

A little girl whose parents are getting a divorce offers the bed she's slept in since she became a "big girl" to her exhausted father.

All of these are acts of kindness,

of generosity,

whether small or major,

more likely than not to go unacknowledged.

They represent the good in people,

while they are still young and innocent in heart,

years before they may be corrupted by this ever-changing world.

In the eyes of a child they are nothing,

simply the right thing to do,

and to the eyes of many they are every-day occurrences,

but to me they are miracles.

Small miracles, perhaps, but miracles nonetheless.

In a world full of hate and darkness,

full of pain and sadness,

I believe any small action or thought of joy and selflessness

even without knowing it,

is to be rejoiced.

And sometimes it is,

not with great celebration or fanfare of course,

but will a small, knowing smile teasing at the corner of a mouth,

threatening to get loose.

But more often than not,

these small acts of kindness go unnoticed,

doomed to forever haunt the backs of minds and memories,

always lurking beneath the surface of your conscience.

But time goes on.

And the world will go on forgetting these little acts of generosity,

as children grow up,

and leave forever behind the world of Never Never Land.