This morning, on a chilly March 10, my thoughts lingered on those who sleep on the streets. Last night’s cold—around 12°C—made me shiver even in a heated room. How much harsher must it feel for them?

At the office, a video about people living on the streets stirred an idea: what if we offered warm drinks? My colleagues embraced it, and soon a large thermos of ginger and palm sugar was ready to share.

It was our first attempt, and we fumbled a little—unsure where to pour, whom to call, whom to approach. Yet somehow, everything unfolded naturally. Some cups we handed out, others people came to receive themselves. In less than half an hour, every drop was gone.
A simple cup of warmth, yet their smiles and repeated thanks revealed it was more than just a drink.

Today I learned that true warmth doesn’t require grandeur. Sometimes it lives in small gestures offered with heart—warming not only their bodies, but ours as well.