India, March 11 -- One of life's greatest highs is seeing a smile on someone's face and knowing you put it there. While begging is often a nuisance to discourage, small gestures of empathy can light up an otherwise drab existence. As American motivational speaker Jay Grace says: "Everyone can experience the joy of generosity, because everyone has something to give." An innocent face has a way of melting one's resolve, bypassing all the logical sermons we've heard about the beggar menace to make space for pure compassion. When generosity is laced with a cheerful smile, the experience becomes as fulfilling for the giver as it is for the receiver. I've had many such encounters. Once, in a crowded marketplace, a little girl skipped up to me and chirped, "Auntie, golgappe khva deyo (Please treat me to some golgappas)." Her spirited honesty and the playful spark in her eyes floored me. Who could say no? Certainly not me. On another sweltering day, as I sipped a cold lemon soda, a woman approached me with two children in tow. They looked exhausted by the heat. When I offered her a soda instead of spare change, her three-year-old daughter squealed with delight before shyly hiding behind her mother. That face stays with me even today. However, kindness once landed us in a rather awkward spot. We had stopped at a petrol station on the way to Pathankot for a family function. The station featured a towering idol of Lord Shiva, and after clicking a few pictures, we decided to treat ourselves to ice-cream. As my husband paid the vendor and walked toward me, five children surrounded him, eyes fixed on the frozen treats. Touched, he told the vendor to give them all ice-creams as well. We finished our cones, hopped back into the car, and sped off. It was only as we neared our destination that I asked: "Did you pay for those five extra ice-creams?" My husband's face went pale. I felt the heat rising in my own cheeks. What an embarrassing blunder! We had inadvertently burdened a poor vendor with our charity by proxy. The excitement of the family reunion evaporated, replaced by a nagging guilt. On the drive back, as dusk fell, I sat with my fingers crossed and a prayer on my lips, eyes glued to the roadside. Spotting the vendor again felt like a divine intervention. We pulled over, settled the debt, and I bowed my head in gratitude to the towering Lord Shiva, thankful to be saved from a guilt that would have haunted us for a long time....