Years ago, we had a head on smash, two hours from home, two hours from my parents. So that my father, who was terminally ill with cancer didn't attempt to come rescue us, a wonderful friend of hours drove two hours to come and get us, and then two hours back. In the meantime (this was in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of winter, in a location renowned for bad weather), the cafe opened up for us, stoked up the fire, plied us with tea, wine, and food, and their cat curled up on my lap, warming me out of the case of shock I was going into. On a lighter note, the towie, on getting us and poor old Gertrude the car home, somewhat tactlessly bellowed out 'Hey Gazza, I think I've found a motor for me mini!'
Another one, just after the Feb 22 quake, the mall had reopened. I was in the flower shop, going to buy some to cheer myself up. A very little old lady came in, and hastened to say to the store owner, 'I'm just looking dear, I can't afford to buy, but I do so love the flowers'. She was leaving as I was getting mine, I grabbed the arrangement she'd clearly loved so much, bought it, ran out, and managed to catch up to her and give them to her.
Bless her, she started crying, and gave me a big hug, I started crying and gave her a big hug. That was a good day.