One ordinary afternoon, I was cleaning out my daughter’s closet—folding dresses, jackets, and pajamas she had outgrown. Instead of boxing them up or donating blindly, I posted them online, hoping they could help another little girl. Soon, a stranger messaged me.

She was a single mother, out of work, struggling to provide for her toddler. She didn’t ask for money—just if I could mail the clothes. At first, I hesitated, wondering if it was a scam. But something in her words felt honest. Remembering how hard it is to ask for help,

I decided to send the package, covering the shipping myself. I wrapped the clothes with care and included a note: “I hope these bring comfort and joy.” Months passed, and I almost forgot. Then, nearly a year later, a small box arrived. Inside was a letter and photos of a smiling little girl wearing

the very clothes I had packed. The mother wrote that the package had carried her through her darkest days, reminding her that kindness still existed. That moment taught me the power of small acts. Kindness doesn’t need recognition—it simply needs to be given.