The Warmth of Giving in a Cold Place
Dear Chewey,
My time in Oslo, Norway was brief, but it was both incredibly fulfilling and unbelievably cold. Most of the time, I tried not to think about the 70-degree days that awaited me in Mallorca, but on one day in particular, I managed to forget the 0°C bite of the air. I wandered down Karl Johans gate, Oslo’s famed pedestrian avenue lined with cafés, musicians, and the scent of roasted nuts, where I met people whose warmth outshone the weather. Their generosity, and a bit of my own, made me feel more alive than any sunny day could.
On this particular day, children all over Oslo were out, braving the elements, fundraising for Kenyan women through a charity called the Samburu Girls Foundation, whose banner read “Girls Not Brides.” It stopped me in my tracks. The foundation’s mission is to protect young girls in Kenya’s Samburu region from child marriage, female genital mutilation (FGM), and other forms of gender-based violence, traditions that, for generations, have stripped girls of education, safety, and choice. The funds raised that day would help provide safe housing, schooling, and medical care for girls who had escaped those practices, and to empower them through education so they could, in turn, transform their communities.
Bundled in wool hats and mismatched gloves, these Norwegian teenagers stood on icy corners with tables full of homemade cookies, cupcakes, and even Halloween candy, their breath visible as they called out to each passersby’s in a blend of shyness and pride. One group brewed coffee from a small camping stove, the steam rising into the frozen air like their hope, hope not for themselves, but for girls half a world away to reclaim the futures they deserved. When I asked if a teacher had organized the day for them, every single one smiled and said, “No. We just care about this charity
Watching them reminded me of the joy I felt during rehab where we regularly volunteered at a regional food bank. There’s something about giving, about looking outward, that steadies you when the world feels small or unkind. So I decided that I must find a way of giving to this lovely group of young people.
But first, I had a small logistical crisis. Oslo, as I’ve learned, isn’t exactly a cash-based city anymore, and they don’t take the Euro currency. Card machines rule the kingdom, and I must have walked three miles in a serpentine fashion across the downtown streets in search of an ATM that actually worked.
Meanwhile, these teenagers were everywhere. At least a dozen different stations, each with its own flavor of purpose. I know this, because I ran into each as I pursued the elusive operating ATM. I stopped at one, then another, then another, sampling cookies and coffee, exchanging jokes about the cold. I promised them I’d be back once I found an ATM. I’m sure they didn’t believe me.
But I did come back. Four times, in fact. By the fourth station, my hands were sticky and stained with cinnamon, frosting, and spilled coffee. Also, my pockets were lighter, and I’d somehow become the unofficial foreign patron saint of adolescent philanthropy. When I started handing out bills, the kids looked stunned—one even asked if I wanted to just take everything on their table. Apparently, I was handing out Norwegian krones like Lloyd Christmas in Aspen, due to an unfortunate conversion calculation I had done in my head.
Maybe I was. But honestly, it didn’t feel like it. Each grin, each thank-you in that soft Norwegian accent, felt worth more than any kroner I could spare.
It’s funny, this small encounter felt like a flash of sunlight in a long winter. And there’s real science behind that feeling. A study in BMC Public Health examined over 1,500 adults and found that volunteering, especially other-oriented volunteering, where you help purely to help, was linked to remarkable boosts in mental and physical health, life satisfaction, and social well-being, along with reductions in depression. People who volunteered for others reported 11 percent higher social well-being and 7 percent more life satisfaction than those who didn’t. Even their physical health rated higher.
Those numbers make sense to me now. Volunteering isn’t about tallying good deeds, but rather it’s about rediscovering your connection to the wider world. It turns your attention outward, softens the edges of self-doubt, and reminds you that purpose often hides in the smallest acts of kindness.
Standing there in Oslo, my breath visible in the air and my heart unexpectedly full, I realized that generosity really does warm twice…once in the hands that give, and again in the hearts that receive.
So yes, Chewey, I might have overpaid for a few cupcakes today. But if happiness has a currency, I think I made a fair trade.
