king a few boxes to the floor.”Oh, shoot,” I muttered, trying to figure out how to pick them up without tipping myself out of the chair.

“I got it,” Miguel said, quickly scooping up the boxes. But instead of just putting them back on the shelf, he handed one to me with a grin. “Consider this one on the house.

A little compensation for your trouble today.” I laughed.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.” “I insist,” he said. “Besides, it’s the least we can do after… you know.”

I accepted the cereal, touched by the gesture. It wasn’t much, but it was a reminder that for every Frank in the world, there were people like Miguel too.At the checkout, I found myself behind a mom with a curious little girl.

She pointed at my wheelchair.

“Cool! Is that like a car?” Her mom looked mortified. “Jenny!

Don’t —” But I laughed. “Kind of! Want to see how it works?” I showed her the controls, and her eyes lit up.

Her mom relaxed, giving me a grateful smile.”That’s so awesome,” Little Jenny said. “When I grow up, I want one just like it!” Her mom tensed again, but I just chuckled.

“Well, hopefully you won’t need one. But they are pretty cool, aren’t they?”As I left the store, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the whole experience.

What a day. But you know what?

For every Frank out there, there are way more decent folks — like Miguel, that nice older lady, and curious Jenny.I headed home, my faith in humanity a little battered but still intact.

And hey, at least I had a wild story to tell at my next game night. Plus, I got some free cereal out of the deal.

Silver linings, right? The whole drive home, I kept replaying the incident in my mind.

Part of me wished I’d said more, “stood up for myself” — excuse the pun — more forcefully. But another part was proud of how I’d handled it.

It’s not easy to keep your cool when someone’s yelling in your face, questioning your very real disability.As I pulled into my driveway, I made a decision.

Tomorrow, I’d call the store and commend Miguel for his help. Small acts of kindness deserve recognition, especially in a world that can sometimes seem so harsh. I also decided to look into disability awareness programs in my area.

Maybe I could volunteer, share my experiences, and help educate people. If I could prevent even one person from acting like Frank, it would be worth it.