My name is Pua Noland. On the westside of Oʻahu, much of our work is feeding our unhoused ʻohana by food distribution. But right before the holidays, we prepare something special—a hot holiday meal for our kūpuna, the Hawaiian elders now living on the very edges of the ʻāina they once helped care for.

This isn’t charity.

It’s kuleana.

I grew up here. I’ve seen our people pushed out and forgotten. So I bring what I can—a warm meal, a warm smile, and time to talk story. Small gestures, but full of aloha.

In Hawaiʻi, simple acts open deep doors. A meal becomes a bridge. A moment becomes connection. For a little while, our kūpuna feel seen and held by the lāhui.

I do this because it brings me back to who we are—aloha that is quiet, humble, and enduring.