So much of the world is centered around looking out for ourselves. We get caught up in our own problems, our own routines, and sometimes, we forget to stop and think about what someone else might be going through. It’s easy to do—we’re all busy, all trying to figure things out. But when we step outside of our own lives, even just for a moment, we start to see the bigger picture.

I am not a medical doctor or, for that matter, even in medical school, so you may be wondering, what do I know? The short answer is probably nothing, but all I can tell you is my story—how my experiences have shaped me into a better person and how helping others has made a huge impact on them. Sometimes, the best help to a problem is simply just being present.

I have been fortunate enough to spend time with people at nearly every stage of life and in vastly different circumstances—kids in hospital beds, middle schoolers trying to fit in, hospice patients with only hours to live, and even the local homeless man sitting on the street with his dog. Their lives couldn’t be more different, yet one thing connects them all: They are human. No matter their situation, everyone shares the same need—to be seen, to be accepted, to feel like they matter. The hospice patient just wants a conversation, a reminder that he isn’t alone. The homeless man wants to be acknowledged as a person, not just another face people pass by. The child in the hospital bed wants to feel like a kid again, free from the weight of illness. And the middle schoolers? They just want to belong.

I’ve seen firsthand how much even the smallest gestures can mean. At the hospital, I would knock on a patient’s door, and for a brief moment, I could see the relief in their eyes when they realized I wasn’t another doctor or nurse coming in for a test or procedure—I was just someone there to talk, to play a game, to help them feel like a normal kid again. In the classroom, middle schoolers lit up when they realized I wasn’t just another adult lecturing them, but someone close enough in age to actually understand what they were going through. They didn’t just need a tutor; they needed someone who could relate. Sitting beside a hospice patient, I’ve listened to stories they’ve never had the chance to tell—because sometimes, there’s no one left to listen. And on the street, I’ve watched a homeless man’s entire demeanor change just because someone acknowledged him, because for once, he wasn’t invisible. These moments weren’t about grand gestures or fixing anything—they were about reminding people that they matter.

None of these moments took much effort on my part. I didn’t have to go out of my way or do anything extraordinary—I just had to show up. That’s the thing about giving back. It’s not about having all the answers or making some huge, life-changing impact. It’s about the little things. The everyday choices to be kind, to acknowledge someone, to take a few minutes out of your day to remind them that they aren’t alone. And the truth is, if more people made those choices, the world would feel like a much better place.

In the end, it’s the simple things that matter. A conversation, a smile, a moment of recognition—these things can change someone’s entire day, even if you don’t realize it. Me telling my story isn’t about getting people to listen to me. It’s about showing that anyone, no matter who they are or where they are in life, has the ability to make an impact. Even if you think it won’t matter, it probably will. Because sometimes, the best medicine isn’t even medicine—it’s just knowing that someone cares.

Jake Rattner is a premedical student.