I do my charity work because I grew up listening to my father’s stories of being an orphan and a shepherd in a small Syrian village, working simply so he and his sister could eat. Hunger was not an idea to him—it was a memory. My parents taught us that no one should ever go hungry, and our home was always open to neighbors, friends, and strangers. My father would say, “Always help. And never let anyone leave your table hungry.”

When I came to America, it was long before WhatsApp or FaceTime. My parents always took food to anyone in need, believing that if they cared for others’ children in Syria, someone would care for their children in America. That belief stayed with me.

My first fundraiser was during Hurricane Katrina. Watching people stranded and suffering, I felt I had to do something, so I hosted a fundraiser for the Louisiana Food Bank. People came, they ate, they connected, and I realized how powerful food can be in moments of crisis. Since then, I have hosted annual events for our local Food Bank and partnered with World Central Kitchen to help feed people affected by disasters.

In Syria, we say, “If your neighbor is doing well, then you are doing well.” When I watch people line up to donate, share tables, talk, and laugh at my events, I feel the same warmth I felt growing up at my parents’ table.

Through these fundraisers, I learned something profound about Americans: they are among the most generous and kind people in the world. When someone needs help, they show up—regardless of religion, politics, or race. Time and again, whatever the crisis, this community has proven its compassion.

I do this work because I always imagine that if my parents or my daughter are in need, I hope someone would step up and help them. Feeding even one child makes me feel I am honoring my father’s legacy and my duty as a human being.

America welcomed me and allowed me to succeed. Giving back is the least I can do to return that kindness.