A Little Can Go A Long Way.

By Divya Behl

Every morning, I wake up, brush my teeth, have my breakfast, and pack my school bag. I go to school, meet my friends, laugh, and focus on my studies. I don’t think twice about these simple routines. But not everyone is as fortunate. Some people wake up not knowing when they will eat, or whether they will have a meal at all. Some carry responsibilities heavier than they should, working long hours, collecting scraps, or walking miles just to survive. Families struggle quietly, elders go without meals so others can eat, and children go to bed hungry. Hunger does not discriminate—it affects the young and old, men and women, every corner of society.

I see it often in my neighborhood. People who should be resting, laughing, or learning are instead worrying about survival. They work tirelessly, yet many of their efforts barely keep them afloat. Some quietly beg on the streets, hoping someone notices. And every time I see this, my heart tightens. For a long time, I didn’t know how to help. I would think, “What can I possibly do? I am just one person. How can I make a difference?”

Then I realized something important. Change doesn’t have to be enormous. It doesn’t have to solve everything at once. Even small, consistent actions matter. And that’s when I started thinking about what I can do. Noticing is the first step, caring is the second, and taking action is the third.

At home, my parents and I talk about how to help. We don’t give money because we want to make sure the help reaches what people actually need—something that nourishes them, something safe. So, whenever we go out in our car, we always carry a big packet of biscuits—25 to 30 small packets neatly packed—and give them to people we see on the streets. Sometimes it’s a child, sometimes an elder, sometimes a family. I can still remember their smiles, their grateful eyes, the way they accept the packet and share it with others. Those small packets, which might seem insignificant to some, mean a lot to them.

Once a year, for my mother’s birthday, we do something very special. We visit a nearby orphanage. We spend time with the children, talk to them, play with them, and bring home-cooked food. Seeing their laughter, hearing their stories, sharing their excitement, and watching their faces light up when they get the food—it is a feeling I cannot describe in words. It’s not just about celebration for us; it’s about celebrating the chance to care, to share, and to make a difference. It’s a reminder that helping is not about recognition—it’s about connection, empathy, and kindness.

Helping these people has changed me. It has made me notice things I would have otherwise ignored: the family sitting quietly on the street corner while everyone else walks past, the elder clutching his stomach after a long day, the children trying to help their parents survive. These moments stay in my mind and remind me that problems like hunger and poverty are real, present, and urgent.

I’ve learned that helping is not always about grand gestures. It’s about showing up consistently, noticing, and acting in ways that are meaningful and safe. Every biscuit I give, every visit to the orphanage, every moment spent sharing a meal—it adds up. It becomes a ripple. And ripples, when joined together, can reach far beyond what we imagine.

It’s not just about giving. It’s about understanding. Understanding that hunger is not just a statistic, but a lived reality. Understanding that no one should have to sacrifice their dreams, their health, or their dignity to survive. Understanding that even small efforts, when multiplied by awareness and compassion, can create change.

I believe that even though I am young, I can make a difference. Even though I am one person, my actions matter. And if everyone did just a little, noticed, cared, and acted, imagine the difference it would make. Hunger would still exist, yes—but fewer people would go to bed hungry. Fewer families would feel invisible or forgotten. And that, I believe, is worth trying for every single day.

Every person deserves a chance to live with dignity, to have their basic needs met, and to dream of a better future. And even if I can only help one person today, or a handful tomorrow, I know that small actions, repeated again and again, will create a wave of change.

Because in the end, it’s not about being famous, or being seen as a hero. It’s about noticing, caring, and acting. About refusing to walk past someone’s hunger, about refusing to accept poverty as normal. It’s about creating ripples with our hands, our hearts, and our choices.

And that is what I want to do every day. That is what I try to do—one small act at a time. Because every person deserves a meal. Every person deserves hope. And every person deserves a future.

By Divya Behl