Yesterday evening, as I was finishing my day, Mugoya Swaliki sent me a message about a little boy called Mukuve Sakilu. There was no long explanation, because there was no need for one: the child had nothing to eat, nobody to provide for him, and he needed food urgently, not next week or next month, but now.

These are the messages I dread the most, because they always come with the same silent question: is there anything left to give? Many times the honest answer would be no. Yesterday, however, I was lucky, because I had what I call a “free slot”. There are a few very good people in this world who quietly send a little extra every month, not for a specific child, but for “a child who has no one”, trusting that sooner or later such a child will appear. Sakilu was that child, and one of those people was Rita.

With the 10 euros that Rita had sent, we were able to give this little boy a whole month of basic food: a sack of maize flour, beans, bananas and the other simple things you see at his feet in this photo, where he is holding a sign that says “Thank you Rita for my food!” He did not smile for the picture, and I think we all understand why. Children who have known real hunger often become very serious, very quiet and very careful, as if they are not yet sure that the good thing in front of them is going to stay.

I keep thinking about that number. Ten euros is the price of a sandwich and a coffee in a European city, or a small thing we buy without even noticing it. Here, it is the difference between a child who goes to sleep hungry every night for a month and a child who eats. That is… the price of survival, and it is so small that it almost hurts to write it down.

Rita will probably never meet Sakilu, and Sakilu will probably never fully understand who Rita is or where she lives. Yet a kind thought that arose in one person’s heart, far away, has travelled across the world and become food in the hands of a little boy she had never heard of. Nothing we do with a good heart is ever lost; it simply goes on, finding its way to wherever it is most needed, often in ways we will never see.

Thank you, dear Rita, for your quiet generosity, and thank you to everyone who sends that little bit extra each month without asking for anything in return. You are the reason why, when Mugoya writes to me in the evening with a child who has no one, I can sometimes answer… yes.