KINDNESS ISN’T POLICY. IT’S PEOPLE.
It was a Thursday, one of those heavy ones where silence speaks louder than words in the office.
Sara Yahia noticed her colleague Maya, usually upbeat and quick with a smile, sitting a little too still at her desk. Her eyes, watery and red, didn’t lift from the screen, and her coffee sat untouched. No one else seemed to notice. Deadlines loomed, keyboards clicked, and life moved on.
But Sara couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. And it seemed personal.
She didn’t ask what was wrong. Maya was very private, and Sara didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. She understood that in moments of sadness, kindness doesn’t always come in questions; it comes in presence and quiet gestures.
During her lunch break, Sara walked to a small shop a few blocks away and returned with a bar of dark chocolate, the kind Maya always reached for during stressful days. She left it on Maya’s desk with a note:
“One small thing, just for you. My door is always open if you need a listening ear or support. You are dearly appreciated.”
Then, she rolled over a spare ergonomic chair from the office storage room, the same one Maya had once quietly admired but never requested.
That afternoon, Maya didn’t say much. She didn’t have to. Her eyes softened when they met Sara’s. A quiet thank-you passed between them, more felt than spoken.
Months later, Maya told her, “That day, I had gotten the worst news from home. But your small attention that day touched me deeply. Thank you, Sara!”
In a workplace where burnout runs high and empathy often gets lost in the rush, her quiet gestures remind others that even the smallest acts can carry the greatest weight.