Every evening, near the new building site next to my parents’ house, three small kids play. Their laughs mix with the noise of the street as they run after stray dogs and turn broken bits into toys. Over time, I started visiting them—sometimes bringing biscuits, chocolates, sometimes just watching their happy games.
But last night was something special!!
Under a dim streetlight, I saw them sitting in a circle. A big plate of rice and curry in the middle. Three little hands reached in, taking food, passing it around, laughing when some fell. No one fought. No one grabbed more. It was a simple act of sharing, guided by their innocence.
Suddenly, I was a child again……
Summer breaks at my grandma’s house were busy. Many cousins and neighbour kids came together. We played loudly, argued, and made messes. But at mealtimes, my grandma had one rule: two kids, one plate.
On the first day, I was upset. The cousin with whom I was sharing my plate ate quickly, always reaching toward my side. “This isn’t fair,” I mumbled. Grandma heard me but stayed quiet.
By the third day, things changed.
Without thinking, I pushed a piece of potato toward my cousin. He looked up, smiled, and left me the last piece of fried eggplant. Soon, we all did the same—saving the best bits for each other, trying to give, not take.
Grandma never told us why we shared plates. She didn’t have to. The act itself taught us. Sharing wasn’t about losing—it was about gaining. Friendship. Trust. The warm feeling of making someone happy.
Years later, watching those three kids share their plate, I finally got it.
My grandma wasn’t just feeding us. She was planting a seed. A seed that grew into a truth: giving brings people closer, while taking pushes them apart. Those summers taught me to let go of “mine” and find joy in “ours.”
Now, when I give the kids an extra chocolate, I say, “Share this.” They smile and split it evenly, no fights. And I know—my grandma’s quiet lesson, that simple plate, is still teaching.
Your Turn
Think back: a shared pencil, a teacher’s nod, or your sibling taking the blame for your mistake. What small act of kindness still guides you today?"