My husband and I take courses at Carnegie Mellon through the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute. We have gotten lost a number of times looking for a classroom on campus, and very often the students have been so kind in leading us to the correct room.

But recently we had an extraordinary experience with the kindness of a young man there.

Just as we came out of the building at the end of class, it began to pour. We had no umbrella. As we were walking (we both walk slowly), a young man came up to us with a large umbrella and put it over both of us and offered to walk us to our car. We reached the street, and I told my husband to wait there for me while I got the car, as it was hard for him to walk.

The young man then insisted on walking with me to the car, under his umbrella. When we got there, I thanked him profusely.

I got into the car and immediately drove back to get my husband. To my astonishment, this young man had walked back to him and was holding the umbrella over him, waiting for me to arrive.

I offered him a ride, along with our thanks, but he said no, he was just going to class.

Chivalry is not dead among young people these days.

-- JOAN SHAMES, Shadyside

This past Easter Sunday, I had just left Mass, and was headed to my in-laws' house about a half-hour away. They were in Disney World, along with my wife and boys, and it was up to me to check on the cats.

I dreaded this as I am highly allergic to cats. Nonetheless, I completed the task, and headed home with puffy eyes and sniffles.

Traveling on the toll road (Route 43), I started to pull a quarter from my pocket. As I approached the booth, my now-swollen eyes looked as if I went 10 rounds with Rocky Balboa.

At the toll booth, I rolled down my window, put out my hand -- and dropped the quarter on the ground. It rolled under the car! My only quarter!

Not that I was flat broke -- I had a $100 bill in my pocket. But that was all. I had put the rest of my cash in the collection plate at Mass.

As I fumbled aimlessly for anything shiny, a small voice approached my car:

"Hey mister," a little boy said. "Happy Easter! Here's 50 cents."

A family passing through the next booth saw my struggles and sent their son to my aid.

A warm fuzzy feeling came over me all the way home. And funny, my eyes were clearing up. Must have been from the tears of joy that little boy brought to me.

-- TOMMY MANSMANN, Nottingham

A few years ago, at a time when my wife could function pretty well but with some difficulty due to dementia, it was our habit to go for a drive almost daily. Occasionally we would stop at the Brighton Hot Dog Shop in Cranberry for a hot dog or cheeseburger.

We always sat in a booth. I sat next to her so I could help direct the food to her mouth and clean up ketchup or mustard on her chin.

The booth was overseen by a counter with stools. One day, when we left to pay our check, the waitress said it had already been paid. When I asked who did it, she said it was a man at the counter who liked the way I treated my wife.

When I asked his name, she said she didn't know it, only that he was a contractor and came in most every day.

I never learned who he was but I think of him often. Not that it was a large check. It was just the kindness.

-- DAVID LATSHAW, Crafton