

The times suddenly look hazy these days. News from faraway places have a way of reaching our shores faster than we expect. Who would have thought that tensions in Iran could escalate so suddenly, sending ripples across the world economy. The blockade of the Strait of Hormuz has sent shockwaves through global oil markets, causing prices to surge almost overnight.
For a country like the Philippines, dependent on oil imports and with millions of workers whose livelihoods are tied to transportation, such global events are never distant. They land quietly but heavily on the daily lives of ordinary people. And as is often the case, it is the poor who feel the weight first.
Last week, my team and I held a dialogue with tricycle drivers from Barangay Pamplona Uno and CAA. We gathered under a modest waiting shed where dozens of drivers came after a long morning on the road. There, I had a chance to speak heart to heart with men whose only source of income is from driving motorcycles that rely on gasoline.
A sudden rise in fuel prices is not just an inconvenience for them, it is a direct hit into the day’s earnings that feed their families. Yet what I heard that afternoon surprised me.
Many of the drivers said they had no plans to immediately increase their fares. They worried about their passengers: market vendors, students, workers who were already struggling with the rising prices of food and basic goods.
One of them, Mang Jun, shared something that stayed with me. “Magdadagdag na lang po ako ng oras sa pasada,” he said. “Magpapagod na lang po ako kaysa magtaas agad ng pamasahe.”
(I will just work more hours. I’ll tire myself out rather than suddenly raise the fare.)
He would rather work longer to recover the cost of gasoline than pass the burden to the commuters. At that moment, I was reminded that generosity often lives quietly among those who have the least.
We do not always see it in boardrooms and high offices. But we see it in the streets, in people who choose compassion even when life is already hard.
Another story that afternoon warmed my heart. A small sari-sari store owner near the tricycle terminal, Aling Tessie, had started giving free drinking water to the drivers waiting for passengers. On especially hot afternoons, she would bring out a small cooler with ice. “Kaunting tulong lang,” she said with a smile. (Just a little something to help.)
It may seem like a small gesture, but to the men spending hours under the sun, it is a reminder that someone cares.
Moved by their stories, our team decided to offer a small gesture of support as well. We distributed five liters of free gasoline to more than 80 tricycle drivers that day. It was not much, but it was given with the hope that generosity, no matter how modest, can ripple outward.
The Bible reminds us in Hebrews 13:16: “And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.”
In uncertain times, generosity becomes even more powerful. It reminds us that while we may not control global events or rising oil prices, we can still choose how we respond to one another.
Sometimes generosity looks like a driver refusing to raise his fare. Sometimes it looks like a neighbor offering a glass of cold water. And sometimes it looks like a community coming together to lighten each other’s load.
The world may feel uncertain today, but as long as generous hearts continue to beat among us, hope will never run out.