I can readily confirm Martin Kettle’s points (Need cheering up after a terrible year? I may have just the story you’re looking for, 28 December). I tripped up while last-minute Christmas shopping in Nailsworth on Christmas Eve; couldn’t move, very painful. The passersby and staff from a nearby shop were helpful and sympathetic. They must have been busy, but they freely gave me their time and cheered me up. The ambulance came quickly and the amazing paramedics correctly assessed my problem, getting me to Southmead hospital in Bristol. X-rays showed that I had broken my femur near the hip joint and needed a hip joint replacement.

Surgery was successfully completed on Christmas Day. I have been fully supported by all manner of services stepping up sequentially. It’s been excellent all round, all of the staff and the public absolutely marvellous. The best of this country’s people and its health service.
Phil Bloomfield
Wotton-under-Edge, Gloucestershire

I needed cheering up after a terrible three years – cancer, major surgery, complications, financial problems, hospitalisations, the Guardian not publishing my (many) letters. Existential despair doesn’t begin to cover it. I found my answer on a wooden plaque for sale from a narrowboat on a muddy pre-Christmas walk. It reads: “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” I hope it helps someone, as Martin Kettle’s piece will do. When we look out rather than in, we give kindness space to grow.
Lyn Dade
Twickenham, London

Apropos of Martin Kettle’s article, a couple of weeks ago I dropped my battered old wallet in the Royal Voluntary Service cafe at the local hospital. It was handed in and quickly returned to me by the volunteer staff. The wallet had contained £90 cash from the nearby ATM. All cards, contents, etc were intact, but five of the £10 notes had been replaced with a single £5 note – baffling.
David E Hanke
Swaffham Bulbeck, Cambridgeshire

I recently discovered a leather purse in my garden with other debris that the fox who lives under my compost heap had left. It was full of credit and loyalty cards, cash and a driving licence. I was able to return the purse to its owner. She thought it must have been dropped as she got off the bus. Not only should we be grateful for the kindness of strangers, as Martin reminds us, but also of considerate foxes.
Martin Cooper
Bromley, London

Martin Kettle’s article misses the win-win thing about handing in a lost wallet. Martin recovered his wallet, but Natalya will also have benefited from her good deed by feeling better about herself. Surely most of us, given the chance, would rather find the angel in ourselves than the devil?
Ian Lamming
Southampton

Re Martin Kettle’s article, I lost my wallet (cash included) in Sheffield last month. In reporting the lost cards, a heritage organisation said that someone had already telephoned. “Bestwn” (who turned out to be a Kurdish refugee) then returned the wallet intact once I’d contacted him. A heartwarming experience.
Richard Brackenbury
Diseworth, Leicestershire

I lost my wedding ring on my allotment in 1974. A couple of years later my successor found it, tracked down my address and drove 10 miles to hand it over to my astonished wife, leaving no name. After five decades, I’m saying “thank you”.
John Bailey
St Albans

Encouraged by Martin Kettle’s wallet-finding experience, can I set a challenge? Could the person who found my distinctive blue wallet, dropped at a rural lay-by in France last summer, please return it via the Guardian. Thanks…
Bob Epton
Brigg, Lincolnshire