Giving is often misunderstood. Many of us grow up believing that generosity belongs to the wealthy—that real impact begins only when there’s an abundance of money, time, or resources to spare. We admire philanthropic foundations, grand donations, and charitable endowments, assuming that unless we can give like that, what we offer won’t count.
But that belief is not only limiting, it’s untrue.
At its core, giving is not about wealth. It is about presence. It is about choosing, even in moments of personal uncertainty, to care about something beyond oneself. Giving is not a transaction—it is a reflection of what we value, and how we choose to show up in the world.
When I started Puprise, I wasn’t earning much. It was a scrappy, uncertain time—full of ideas, full of effort, but without the safety net. And yet, at the end of my first year, I made a decision that remains close to my heart: I donated everything I had earned to an animal shelter. Not because I had excess, but because I had love. Because I believed that even a modest beginning could make a difference in someone else’s life—even if that someone walked on four legs and couldn’t say thank you.
That experience taught me something I carry to this day: giving isn’t delayed until we have more. It begins when we decide we already have enough to share.
The world is full of examples of people who give without being rich—parents who give their time and energy to community causes, students who volunteer in classrooms and clinics, neighbors who lend a hand during hard times without keeping score. These are the invisible threads that hold society together. And often, these acts come from those who know what it means to go without. Their generosity is not performative. It’s born from empathy, from resilience, from understanding the importance of being there for someone else.
Not everyone needs money. Some need to be heard. Others need a safe space to be vulnerable. Some need guidance, or simply someone who believes in them. Encouragement, attention, kindness—these are gifts too. And they often carry more weight than we realize.
There is a quiet power in choosing to give when it’s not easy. When you don’t have much, but you still offer what you can—your time, your energy, your voice—that’s when giving becomes transformational. Not just for the person receiving, but for the one offering it.
So no, you don’t have to be rich to give. You just have to care. And you have to be brave enough to act on that care, to trust that what you have is already enough. Because giving isn’t measured by scale—it’s measured by sincerity.
And sometimes, the smallest gestures—the ones rooted in genuine compassion—leave the most lasting impact.