I’ve lived on this street for almost nine years, and Marcellus, our UPS guy, is a local legend. He’s always working hard—rain, heat, holidays. He even remembered my son’s birthday and brought him a mini football.
When we found out his wife, Janine, had passed away, everything changed. The neighborhood rallied together—flowers, pies, cards, and kids drawing notes saying “Thank you Marcellus.” We coordinated with his route map and surprised him when he pulled up.
He was shocked. “I didn’t even think anyone knew,” he said. We gave him an envelope with over $2,300 from the neighborhood. Marcellus was overwhelmed and admitted he’d been struggling financially since Janine’s illness, working extra shifts to cover medical bills and the mortgage.
Since then, the neighborhood’s connection to him has deepened. Irene brings him dinner, Suki walks his dog, and my son Aiden learns something new about Marcellus each week. A few weeks later, Marcellus asked for help going through Janine’s things. We showed up with no questions, just helping hands.
We didn’t do anything grand. We just showed up. Now, when Marcellus pulls up, we don’t just see a delivery man—we see him. And he sees us too.
This taught me you never know what someone’s carrying. So, if you can show up with kindness, even in small ways, do it. It might mean more than you realize.
