Story Contributed by Colin, Intern
It was mid-afternoon in Ghim Moh, and our team was halfway through distributing food rations to residents. Most came prepared with trolleys or had children helping them. That’s when Lisa* caught my eye.
She walked toward us alone, empty-handed. She chatted with my teammates who were collecting details for a community survey. With no trolley and two heavy bags of rations to carry – including a 5kg sack of rice and a litre of oil – I offered to help bring them up to her flat. She smiled with relief. “Thank you, young man. That’s very kind.”
As we walked, Lisa told me it was her first time coming for the rations, not because she hadn’t needed them before, but because something shifted in her that day. “I heard the noise,” she said softly. “People talking, laughing. I thought… maybe it’s time I came down.”
She had been living there for a while but had barely spoken to her neighbours. “I keep to myself,” she admitted, almost apologetically. “Sometimes it’s shyness, sometimes I just don’t know how to start.” She wasn’t just talking about food support, she was describing isolation.
When we reached her flat, I told her about the neighbourhood chat Beyond shares with residents. “It’s not only for food or resources,” I explained. “People post if they’ve lost a pet, share furniture they don’t need, or just check in on each other.”
Lisa looked thoughtful for a moment and then asked, “Can you add me?”
Two weeks later, Lisa had breathed life into that chat. She wasn’t just a silent observer – she was offering pre-loved shoes, furniture, and little items she thought others could use. Neighbours started messaging her privately, some thanking her, some just chatting. At the market, people began greeting her by name. She told me later, almost in disbelief, “I thought I had nothing to offer. Now I see… I can give too.”
This is what building community often looks like. It’s not loud or grand. It’s when someone feels brave enough to step out of isolation, and someone else says, “Yes, you’re welcome here.”
Beyond’s work often focuses on families with children and youth, but real community doesn’t draw lines like that. When we create spaces for people to meet, talk, and share, whether during food distributions or through a simple chat group, we see that connection has no boundaries.
Lisa is just starting her journey of belonging. But when I see her now, smiling, chatting with neighbours, I can already imagine her guiding others to do the same one day.
Sometimes, setting change in motion is as simple as carrying two heavy bags for someone. Sometimes, it’s giving them the chance to see that they are, and always have been, part of something bigger.
*Not her real name