There've been a couple recently in The Guardian.
One was in a weekly feature on 'This happened to me' - I got eaten by a shark, or whatever, and was about a guy who lost his father on the London Underground. His dad, an elderly Romanian who'd never previously been out of Romania, somehow got separated from him on a busy tube station, and basically went AWOL for about four or five days. He couldn't speak a word of English, no-one speaks Romanian, he was just....gone. Eventually he turned up, after spotting his own photo on the front page of a newspaper and pointing it out to the waiter of an Indian restaurant which had given him sanctuary and fed him for a couple of days. Reunited with his son, he said how much he'd enjoyed his time in London, and how everyone he met had been very kind to him.
The other was about a guy whose father had recently died. While organising the funeral, he discovered that in his later years, his father had become very infirm (tho' too proud to admit it), with the result that he could no longer make it to the mosque on his own. His neighbour, a died in the wool cockney skinhead, with the tattoos and the pit bull, had got into the habit of going out to the roadside and flagging down cars heading for the mosque, to get the old feller a lift. When the son thanked him for his kindness, he just shrugged his shoulders dismissively, and said, simply, 'Nah - he was a good man.'
