The month of October did not pass gently for many Las Piñeros. We were struck by three devastating fires that reduced homes to ashes, destroyed small livelihoods, and momentarily dimmed the light of hope in our communities. In moments like these, you don’t just see flames; you see lives interrupted, dreams halted, and mothers clutching their children while trying to find the strength to start again.

As a public servant, my duty is clear: to serve those most in need. But service is not only about delivering aid; it is about restoring dignity. When a calamity hits, I’ve learned that the greatest urgency is not the distribution of goods but the restoration of hope. People can endure hunger and loss for a while, but once hope disappears, despair quickly takes its place. That is what we must always fight against, the silent suffering of feeling forgotten.

Yet, I must admit, there are moments when even I grow weary. When I can no longer absorb the pain of others. When my capacity to carry others’ burdens feels full, and I whisper to God for another tank of strength. The three successive fire incidents tested every ounce of my emotional and spiritual energy. I found myself on my knees, tired, helpless, and praying for divine reinforcement.

And then, as if God Himself heard that quiet plea, a message came from a friend, Senator Bong Go. Out of the blue, he said he would visit the victims of the Gabriel Compound fire in Pulang Lupa Uno to extend help. We didn’t even have to ask, he just came, guided by his instinct for “malasakit” (compassion, caring). It was an answered prayer. Just when we thought we were running out of strength, God sent another heart to carry the load.

I was moved to tears that day, not only because of the aid that came, but because of the reminder that compassion multiplies. One heart lights another. Like Bobby, one of my campaign leaders whose home was turned to ashes, yet he still found the courage to smile and encourage others. Even in loss, he chose to serve. But when he felt depleted, another’s compassion refueled his spirit. That’s how hope works; it is passed from one person to another until it reaches those who need it most.

There is a lesson here for all of us: compassion does not wait to be summoned. It appears unannounced, at the perfect moment, through the most unexpected people. Sometimes through a senator, sometimes through a neighbor, sometimes through you.

As Scripture reminds us, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way, you will fulfill the law of Christ.” — Galatians 6:2.

True compassion is not just about giving, it’s about understanding, showing up, and inspiring others to do the same. When we give with a generous heart, we do not just rebuild homes — we rebuild hope, one soul at a time.