The Christmas Tree, and the Real Reason We Share Small Acts of Kindness

A few days before Christmas, we gave away a tree—one of those simple, real evergreens with only a couple weeks left to shine. It might not sound like much, but here’s why it matters. When we share small acts of kindness at the right moment, they can shift more than just one person’s day. When you’re working in tech, or building with AI, or trying to rally a team that’s stretched thin, the world can feel complicated and heavy. Direct kindness cuts through all that.

At first, I hesitated to share this. We should share good deeds from the heart, not for recognition. There’s always that voice in your head saying, “Don’t make this about you.”

But here’s the thing. Sharing is part of the kindness, especially if you do it openly and simply. When you tell these stories—not as boasts, but as invitations—you make it easier for others to step in. When you share small acts of kindness, they can create big ripples and inspire others. That’s what I want to show you: a way to practice and spread micro-kindness, week by week, that you can actually stick with.

The world can feel heavy, especially during the holidays. In times like these, kindness—visible, everyday, no-strings-attached—matters more than ever.

Why We Keep Kindness Quiet (and What It Really Costs)

If you’ve ever hesitated to share something good you did to encourage kindness at work, you’re not alone. Six months ago, I caught myself worrying that talking about a kind act would sound like a humblebrag, and sometimes that hesitation wins. It’s easy to think, “Will people discount this? Will it just look like I want credit?”

But here’s where things get trickier. When the only actions we see on our team are technical emergencies or delays, generosity drops off the radar. In practice, what counts as generosity actually shifts depending on signals—team members’ willingness to help tracks norms they see in action, not just policy or theory. If you don’t see colleagues pitching in or see kindness get acknowledged, you quietly decide it’s not expected. I’ve watched whole teams drift toward low trust and low energy, almost by accident, just because the only stories getting repeated were outages and sprint slippage.

Kindness is a bit like any reaction that takes some extra push to get started—a kind of activation energy. The smallest visible example—a thanks in a team channel, someone offering to pair up, even just a kind note—can act like heat to get the reaction going. When we keep those things quiet, the energy it takes for the next person to act stays high. But if acts of kindness become part of what people see around them, the barrier drops. It’s easier for someone to jump in, because it feels normal. This is why making those acts visible matters more than people realize. I’ll admit—once I saw someone else post a simple “thanks” for a code review in public, suddenly it felt completely natural for me to follow suit.

Put simply, when you share micro-kindness in visible ways, you’re not marketing yourself. You’re choosing to share kindness without bragging. You’re quietly modeling leadership. Even a single note can spark a new norm for your team.

How Sharing Kindness Multiplies Its Impact

In practice, it’s simple to make kindness visible. Share a brief note—three to five sentences—that highlights who benefited and gently invites others to join in. It’s not about crafting showy posts or long-winded stories. This kind of note lowers the activation energy across a team. It quietly tells everyone, “This is something we do here, and it matters.” When I write, I focus on the other person or the outcome—who got helped, what changed for them. The shift away from self is subtle but real.

But visibility has to stay honest. The goal is to avoid performative kindness, not to collect gratitude or applause. When you share, keep the outcome and the invitation, skip the self-congratulatory tone. I treat these notes like a bug fix released to the team. Here’s what happened, here’s the simple value, here’s how someone else could try it. If a sentence starts to sound like a trophy, I cut it.

Ready to try this in your context? It can be as small as thanking someone in a shared Slack channel, or posting a quick LinkedIn note about a teammate stepping up. Just make it public, actionable, and focused on who benefits.

This doesn’t need to be complicated. The process is lightweight, repeatable, and designed to fit the rhythm of busy technical teams. Start with one visible micro-kindness a week. Let others see it. Invite them in. That’s how you’ll change the tone—not just in December, but every week you show up.

Make It Routine: Your Four-Step Kindness Loop

Step one is simple. Pick a micro-kindness to do. You’ve got three categories to choose from—lift someone’s work, reduce friction, or expand opportunity. If you’re an engineer, you might spotlight a peer’s clever fix or review, fix a flaky test that’s been a perennial pain, or write a one-page explainer for a tricky config nobody wants to touch. If you lead a team, you could unblock a teammate’s project, smooth out onboarding, or invite someone quieter into a meeting that matters. For me, my default’s always been reducing friction—I’d rather quietly kill recurring annoyances than make a big show, but all three types matter and show up differently week to week.

Step two is where most of us hesitate. Share what you did, right out loud. Drop a quick 3–5 sentence note in Slack or on LinkedIn. Make it practical, almost changelog style: what changed, who benefits, and a hint at how others could do it too.

For example: “Took ten minutes to fix that authentication test that’s been randomly failing builds. Anyone stuck on CI can merge cleaner tonight. This was actually easier than expected—took just two lines. If there’s a paper cut bug you keep seeing, I’d love to hear what’s next in line.” I stick to the facts. Context, benefit, and how to replicate—just like a technical update, but for people. The point isn’t self-praise; you’re modeling a process, giving others something actionable, and showing that framing cuts down the back-and-forth so others know exactly what you did and why it matters.

Now the most overlooked bit. Finish with a clear call to action. Your Move: Name the behavior, invite others in, and make it normal. “Who else fixed a tiny thing this week? Drop your wins—the little ones count.” As simple as that.

The last step is what keeps this going. Set a recurring reminder—use your calendar or a bot to nudge you once a week. Treat it like you would any other technical hygiene: a lightweight ritual that hums along in the background. I’ve got a ten-minute block on Fridays labeled “Kindness Sprint.” No backlog, no grand ambitions—just show up, knock out one small act, and share. Over time, this cadence builds momentum you don’t have to think about.

Need a jumpstart idea? Give a public shout out to someone who just overhauled a legacy module. Volunteer to onboard a new contributor, or quietly pay forward a conference ticket you can’t use. Small moments, visible impact. #YourMove, #KindnessMatters

Overcoming Doubt: Quick Wins and How to Start

Let’s cut through the doubts quickly. This isn’t one of those sweeping campaigns you’ll abandon in a month—it’s a 10-minute weekly habit that fits into your schedule, not one that takes it over. When you share, center the story on outcomes and who benefited, not on yourself. That keeps things honest and fit for busy teams. And something subtle but powerful happens. Impact compounds because visibility is contagious. When others witness gratitude—like a simple thank-you for a review task—they jump in and help more generously themselves link. I measure real success by replies or, even better, when someone responds with their own act of kindness. That’s how you know you’ve shifted the norm—not by collecting likes, but by seeing the ripple start.

So here’s your move, today. Choose a micro-kindness—maybe you thank a colleague, help unblock someone, or share a story that mattered to you. Do it, post a 3–5 sentence note in Slack or LinkedIn about the benefit, and invite others to try the same. Set a recurring reminder to keep the habit alive. Like or comment if you’re ready to spread some positivity—because the world could always use more of it.

And I’ll admit, I still worry sometimes that these small acts get drowned out, especially when bigger issues are swirling. I haven’t figured out how to scale kindness in a way that always cuts through the noise—only that it’s worth trying anyway.