On 4 February 2026, the schoolyard in Mocharim, a village near Bodh Gaya, slowly filled with barefoot children and mothers in bright saris. They had not come to receive aid, but to return what they had been saving grain by grain — rice and coins set aside in simple “rice banks” and bamboo banks.
This second “homecoming” of bamboo and rice banks was quieter than a ceremony, yet more personal than a standard relief event. Its focus was simple: help families discover that even in poverty, they still have the power to give.
From care recipient to initiator
Two days earlier, Malaysian volunteer Chin Mee Chwong (陳美聰) had visited Pratima Devi, a woman once on the receiving end of Tzu Chi support.
In 2025, Pratima had bravely shared with neighbors how saving “a handful of rice” each day had helped her family through hard times. Her story moved 44 families to take home a bamboo bank and a rice container. At the first homecoming, many returned with their offerings.
This year, Pratima did not come forward for assistance. Instead, she helped plan how her village could continue to give. For her, it was a quiet shift — from seeing herself as someone in need to someone who could inspire others.
LEFT: The program ran in two groups. Inside, women watched a short film on the rice bank and listened to the story “A Handful of Rice.” Outside, local education volunteers Poonam Chakma (left) and Rinku Chakma (right) taught children the Hindi song “One Family.” RIGHT: On 2 February, Chin Mee Chwong (right) met former care recipient Pratima Devi (left) in Mocharim to plan the bamboo and rice bank homecoming. | Photos: Liu Chiung Yu
Staying with the children
No one expected nearly 70 children to turn up. Local education volunteers Poonam Chakma and Rinku Chakma had prepared for a group of about 20. Faced with triple the number, Poonam’s first thought was not about the program schedule. It was, as she later said, simply to “stay with them.”
She asked the children to form lines, checked their fingernails, and sent them to wash their hands. Clean hands earned a small star sticker on the cheek. The reward was tiny, but the pride on the children’s faces was not. Many straightened their backs and tried even harder to follow instructions.
Songs, clapping games, naming body parts, and singing the Indian national anthem gradually turned a noisy yard into a circle of focused faces. Poonam watched boys and girls standing barefoot on the dry earth, some in clothes that no longer fit, yet fully absorbed in each new movement.
In that moment, she did not feel like a “teacher” or “volunteer.” She felt like a mother, simply standing beside children who rarely have an adult’s full attention.
LEFT: Local education volunteer Poonam Chakma (left) checked the children’s fingernails, using basic hygiene as a first lesson in self-care. RIGHT: Inside the classroom, women watched the rice bank film and listened to “A Handful of Rice,” linking their daily experience of scarcity with a new way of helping others. | Photos: Liu Chiung Yu
A first step: from receiving to giving
After half an hour, the women and children swapped places. The children entered the classroom to watch the short film and hear the story of “A Handful of Rice.” Their mothers moved outside with their rice and bamboo banks.
One by one, the women came forward. Rice saved from daily cooking was poured into large containers; bamboo banks were tipped until the last coin slid out. Next to them, children copied the same motions, placing their own handful of rice and small coins into the shared pile.
For many of the children, this was the first time they were asked not just to receive, but to give. Volunteers described it as creating chances to become a giver with "palms facing down"— learning to offer, not only to stretch out an empty palm.
By the end of the afternoon, dozens of families had contributed rice and small change, and all 18 newly prepared bamboo banks had been eagerly taken home. Yet what stayed with the volunteers was not the numbers, but the way mothers and children stood side by side, each offering what they could.
“They brought me more happiness”
By the end of the day, the children had learned the “One Family” song in Hindi with sign language. More importantly, they had practiced seeing themselves as part of that “one family,” with something to offer.
Poonam later reflected that, in truth, it was the children who gave her more happiness. Their willingness to try — keeping their hands clean, standing in line, putting their own rice into the bamboo banks — showed her that change was possible, even without lots of resources.
LEFT: Children learned to put coins into the bamboo banks themselves, experiencing the joy of giving under the guidance of local volunteer Poonam Chakma (center). RIGHT: Children stood barefoot on the yellow earth, some in ill-fitting clothes, yet still sang and learned with focus. | Photos: Liu Chiung Yu
Small rice, large meaning
At the close, volunteers handed simple snacks to the children. Mothers shared cups of spiced milk tea prepared by local helpers. Chin quietly passed a batch of stationery to the school, hoping that basic tools might make it a little easier for children to stay in class.
For Malaysian volunteer Lee Chuey Shan (李翠珊), who helped record each contribution, what stood out was the care with which women brought their rice. Some had very little, yet they had still set aside a portion over many months.
The bamboo and rice banks may not hold large amounts, but in Mocharim they carry something else: the belief that giving is possible for everyone. For a village where many live day to day, that belief may be the first real step out of poverty — not only of money, but of hope.
Written by Wang Cheng-Hsuan (王承瑄), Chin Mee Chwong (陳美聰)
