The Lesson My Mother Taught Me: Thanksgiving and the Compassion That Costs Nothing

Arora Nin
Nov 26, 2025
9 min read

My mother is the most generous woman I have ever known. Not in the showy, headline-making way, but in the quiet, constant way that changes lives. She gives not just to family, but to everyone around her. Long before there was a movie called "Pay It Forward," she was living it, teaching me that generosity isn't about grand gestures—it's about seeing people.

She taught me something that seemed counterintuitive at first: tip in advance. When we'd hire a tour guide, she'd pay them upfront, generously. "It makes them feel appreciated," she'd explain. "When people feel seen and valued, they give you their best." But it was never really about getting better service. It was about recognizing someone's humanity before they had to prove their worth to us.

That lesson has stayed with me every single day. Not just as a practice, but as a lineage—something passed down, something to pass forward.

Seeing the Invisible

Photo taken from The Independent Sg of an elderly who teared up when given a red packet

In Singapore, as I go about my daily errands through the heartland hubs, I encounter them—the pioneer generation, our elderly who built this nation. Many are in wheelchairs or mobility vehicles selling packets of tissue paper. Others work at McDonald's, clear trays at food courts and hawker centers, empty trash in office buildings, clean toilets. They're doing the work that no one wants to do because there is no other way for them to survive.

I make it a point to give a few dollars to each one I meet. Not because I need tissue paper. Because if I were in their shoes, I would wish for the same compassion.

This isn't just Singapore's problem. In Paris, the homeless line the streets. In every city, in every country, systems fail people. But we don't have to fail them too.

When Systems Fail, We Still Choose

What matters is what we do, right now, in this moment, with the person standing in front of us.

Here's something crucial: it's not always about how desperate someone's situation is. I believe in giving in general. Not just money—time, presence, actions. When we give, it's not just sharing. It's compassion. The active choice to step into someone else's reality and acknowledge their humanity.

In today's world, we equate time with money. So what is more valuable—giving your friend the 6 minutes that Simon Sinek says would help anyone feel anchored and seen, or time wasted scrolling Instagram?

Giving is everywhere if we choose to see it. In how we treat those who work for us and with us. In how we interact with strangers. In the compassion we offer to the parent whose child is having a meltdown—understanding instead of judgment, help instead of shushing, empathy instead of superiority.

The Energy of Abundance

When we hold back, we shrink our hearts out of fear. We move in the energy of lack—convinced there isn't enough, that we must hoard for uncertain futures. But the universe doesn't reward hoarding.

Life never fails to give it back. This isn't mysticism; it's lived experience.

Giving is also time. Volunteering for work no one sees because it needs doing. I've spent years on committees with no recognition—my condo's management to ensure security guards aren't abused by residents, the USA Girl Scouts executive committee doing work no other parent wanted—because someone has to, and if it's going to be done, it should be done willingly and well.

The Mathematics of Giving

I strongly believe in a collective consciousness. When we give, we are not having less. We are tapping into something that connects us across time and space.

That sounds impossible in a world that operates on scarcity and zero-sum thinking. But when you give with an open heart, something shifts. You don't become poorer—you become richer in ways that transcend bank balances. You become part of a lineage of giving that stretches back through generations.

Let me share something I've never told anyone publicly. During my divorce, I found myself in a difficult financial position. My best friend stepped up to help with my legal fees. His words: "This is for all the tissue packets that you have bought."

I never wanted to be seen giving. I believe in discretion. I wasn't keeping score. I wasn't expecting anything back.

But life was keeping score.

That moment anchored me into the unshakeable belief that every ounce of kindness returns somehow. Not always in the same form. Not always when expected. But it comes back.

Because of what I endured, survived, and then thrived through, I founded Aura Reign—a business I hold close to my heart. During my divorce, I was between a rock and a hard place. Powerless. Isolated. Abandoned. Trapped. No one to guide me, stand in my corner, or simply hold my hand.

I never want another woman to feel that way.

Aura Reign empowers women as they transition through life. My business partner Anne Germain and I built it on the power of the collective—what we call The Guild. Women who didn't just survive divorce but thrived, who understand that we are more powerful together than alone. A circle that unites. Together, we pass on hard-won lessons and experiences to the women who come after us.

This, too, is giving. This is honoring what was given to me in my darkest hour—my friend's generosity, my own survival, the strength I discovered I had—by transforming it into a bridge for someone else's crossing. Taking your pain and extending a hand to someone else drowning.

My mother taught me this through her life, not her words. She had a harsh childhood where she had very little. Yet her heart remained open. Perhaps because she understood what it meant to receive nothing, she committed to giving everything she could.

When someone mentioned they liked a particular food, she would send it to them—not once, but repeatedly, because she knew they liked it. There is a true joy in that kind of giving.

I've watched her park her car at a distance to save $2 on parking, only to give that $2, or more, away somewhere else. She never hoards. She doesn't keep the best for herself. When asked about her life, she always says how blessed she is to have so much. Always.

That is the inheritance she gave me. Not money. Not possessions. But a way of being in the world. That is true generosity.

The Math of Love: When Hearts Expand

In my meditation "Gratitude with Ease & Grace," I guide people to anchor into the open-hearted now. When our heart expands, so does our life.

We have an endless capacity to love. The math of love is never division—it's multiplication.

Think about having a second child. You don't love your first child less. Your heart doesn't divide the love it has—it grows. It expands to hold more. That's the energy of the heart. That's the energy of giving.

Every time we give, our capacity to give grows. Our heart doesn't shrink from the giving. It expands from it.

This is the mathematics the world doesn't teach us. They teach scarcity: if I give to you, I have less. But the truth is: when I give to you, I become more. My heart opens wider. My capacity deepens. My connection to humanity strengthens.

A Thousand Small Ways

There are countless ways to embody this spirit:

Give your full attention. Put down your phone. Look people in the eye. Let them finish their sentences without planning your response.

Give loving thoughts. If you're not in a position to give resources, send a prayer. It doesn't have to be religious—a prayer can be as simple as: "I wish you peace. I wish you well." Your brain processes about 60,000 to 90,000 thoughts per day. What if each thought became a prayer? Your world becomes more peaceful. Our collective world shifts. This costs you nothing but changes everything.

Give the benefit of the doubt. Assume good intentions. The person who cut you off might be rushing to the hospital. The rude cashier might have just gotten devastating news.

Give your skills freely. Share what you know without keeping score. Mentor. Answer questions. Help a neighbor with something you find easy but they find impossible.

Give grace to the struggling parent. Offer an understanding smile. Better yet, offer to help.

Give up your need to be right. Sometimes kindness matters more than correctness.

Give recognition where it's due. Notice good work, even if it's someone's job. The security guard. The janitor. They rarely hear "thank you for what you do."

Give space for others to grow. Let people make mistakes without "I told you so." Support them through the process.

Give forgiveness. Not because they deserve it, but because you deserve peace.

Give a genuine compliment. Real recognition of something you admire. Then walk away—don't wait for one back.

Give your seat. Not just to the elderly or pregnant, but to anyone who looks more tired than you.

Give follow-through. When you say "let me know if you need anything," mean it. Better yet: "I'm going to the store, what can I pick up for you?"

These are starting points. You'll discover your own ways.

This Is Not About Thanksgiving Alone

As Thanksgiving approaches, we'll hear a lot about gratitude, about counting blessings, about being thankful.

But gratitude that doesn't move us to action is incomplete.

True gratitude starts with remembering. Not just what we have now, but what had to be given for us to be here. Your parents. Their parents before them. The ancestors whose names you may never know but whose strength flows through your veins. The sacrifices they made, the hardships they endured, the choices they navigated so that you could exist in this moment.

Think about their journeys. The courage it took. The losses they bore. The dreams they held onto or let go of. You are here because they survived. Because they gave. Because they chose to keep going even when everything was difficult.

And think about your own journey. What you've had to give, to sacrifice, to endure to arrive at this moment, reading these words. Offer yourself a gentle love. Say "thank you" to yourself for everything you've survived, everything you've become.

As I say thank you to you for taking the time to read this, remember: gratitude isn't just about what we have. It's about remembering how we got here. Who brought us here. What it took.

This is for everyone who came before us. Everyone whose struggles and strength allowed us to arrive where we are today.

Real gratitude looks at this inheritance and asks: "Who needs this more than I do? Who can I share this with? Who is invisible today that I can see?" It honors those who gave for us by giving forward ourselves.

It's in every interaction. Every moment. Every person.

The Practice of Seeing

So this Thanksgiving, and every day after:

See people before they have to prove themselves worthy. Give before you're asked. Offer compassion before you've calculated whether they "deserve" it.

Give those 6 minutes. Put down your phone. Look people in the eye.

The systems have failed so many—the pioneer generation working jobs they shouldn't have to work, the homeless on the streets, the vulnerable everywhere. But we don't have to fail them too.

Your few dollars matter. Your smile matters. Your time matters. Your loving thoughts matter. Your acknowledgment that they are human beings deserving of dignity matters more than you know.

We Give Every Day

We are part of a collective consciousness that stretches back through generations. When one of us rises, we all rise. When one of us is seen, we all become more visible. When one of us receives compassion, we all become more capable of giving it.

Giving doesn't diminish you. It expands you.

My mother knew this. She showed me—as countless others have shown through their own acts of generosity, as our ancestors showed through their sacrifices—that Thanksgiving isn't a day on the calendar. It's a practice. A daily choice to honor what was given for us by giving forward ourselves. To see the invisible. To give not because we have plenty, but because giving is how we build the world we want to live in.

We don't have to wait for holidays. We give every day. In every interaction. In every moment. Across every city and country. With everyone who crosses our path.

Life always gives back. Not in the same form, not always when expected, but it gives back. The abundance you seek is found in the giving, not in the holding back.

No matter how small the gesture, it makes a difference.

Every. Single. Time.

Who will you see today? What compassion will you pay forward? They're all around us, waiting to be reminded that they matter. Remember the strength that flows through you from those who came before. Honor them by giving forward. Don't wait for a holiday. Give today—your time, your smile, your attention, your loving thoughts, your compassion. Life will give it back.

On behalf of one of my dearest friends Dean Bell, I enclose a link to gather donations https://hiro4hope.com/donations/Dean/ for Cambodian children. Dean will be riding a 1000km bike trail from Ho Chi Minh into Siem Reap and I hope that you will offer your donations generously - In turn for any donation made to the Cambodian children, I will offer a free 45min reading. For bookings please contact me at arora@aroranin.com