In a year marked by despair, it was small, human acts that broke through the noise, reminding us that hope doesn’t vanish. It’s passed hand to hand, one person to another.
The year 2025 will be remembered by many as one of heartbreak.
When I asked people how they felt about it, I didn’t get reflection. I got flinches, grimaces and shrugs.
“Horrible,” they said.
We lived through a storm of suffering, war, disaster, injustice and violence, in a loop that at times felt endless. And beneath it all, I saw something even more dangerous than outrage: numbness. People giving up, moving mechanically through their days just to endure.
And I get it. When the world is burning beyond your control, fighting seems pointless. But that’s the lie hopelessness tells.
Because 2025 wasn’t all grief.
Scattered across the noise were small moments when someone decided to stand up, stay kind or simply show up. They didn’t make headlines or solve everything, but they mattered. Not as grand gestures, but as sparks of hope that comfort and mobilize.
Strangers protected one another on a tense ride home. Students fundraised with pocket change. Donations found ways to cross borders. A movie ticket was paid for so a child wouldn’t feel left out. Food became a bridge between cultures.
Taken together, these stories reveal just how many ways there are to show up.
Martyrdom isn’t the only kind of help. Sometimes, it’s a ride home, a bowl of seblak (crackers cooked with vegetables, eggs and spicy sauce), a few thousand rupiah from a student’s pocket. It all matters.
This article is inspired by Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things, and the lesson I’ve carried from it: that small acts ripple outward. While we can’t control everything, the things we do, no matter how minor, can take on a life of their own.
In the face of vast suffering, it’s easy to feel powerless. But we aren’t. A little, done by many, becomes a lot. And this mindset can be a self-fulfilling, powerful prophecy.
So before 2026 sweeps us into the next cycle, let’s pause and remember what we often forget: that small acts, especially when done by many, can shift the ground beneath us.
