There was a time when I truly didn’t have any money—not even enough for a cup of coffee or a bus ticket home. It wasn’t dramatic; there were no villains or grand tragedies. Just life, unfolding quietly in shades of gray.
In those moments, I learned the weight of silence—the kind that comes when you can’t afford to speak up, ask for help, or even dream too loudly. But I also discovered generosity in unexpected places: a neighbor’s extra meal, a friend’s borrowed book, a stranger’s smile that cost nothing but meant everything.
Having no money doesn’t mean having no value. Sometimes, it strips away the noise and leaves only what matters: kindness, resilience, and the quiet dignity of getting through another day.
This page is not a plea, nor a lesson—just a reminder that we’ve all been somewhere close to empty. And from emptiness, something real can grow.