When the Disaster Hits: A Call for Compassion and Action

Poster by: Krystelle Ann A. Visda

When the skies darken and the wind begins to howl, some see “cuddle weather,” or joke about class suspensions and the unexpected break from school. Memes flood our timelines. Some laugh, some shrug, and the storm becomes little more than a background mood.

But not for everyone.

For many families, a typhoon is not a punchline but rather a nightmare. Homes are swept away. Food becomes scarce. Children go to sleep with rain dripping from makeshift roofs, wondering if they’ll wake up safe. Their reality is not “just a storm” — it’s a test of survival.

We often don’t see this side. It's easier to look away, to make light of the darkness outside our windows, especially when we’re warm, dry, and safe. But now more than ever, we are called to shift our perspective — to adopt a different outlook.

What if we saw a typhoon not as a holiday, but a moment to hold each other closer — not just in our homes, but as a community?

What if instead of jokes, we sent out messages of support?

What if our first thought wasn't, "Yay, no school," but "How can I help?"

This shift in mindset — from indifference to awareness, from humor to heart — can make all the difference.

Typhoons don’t just knock down trees; they uproot lives. They destroy homes, halt education, and derail dreams. And the damage doesn't stop there. Floodwaters carry more than debris. They sweep away livelihoods, pollute rivers, and harm ecosystems that have taken centuries to form.

Entire fields of crops are flattened. Marine life suffers. The earth itself bears the scars of our inaction.

These storms are becoming stronger and more frequent, and that’s no coincidence. Our daily choices — what we consume, how we dispose of waste, how we treat the planet — all feed into the growing crisis of climate change. Every plastic bag, every unchecked emission, every wasted resource matters.

So the next time a typhoon approaches, let us look at it differently.

Let it be a wake-up call, not a weather update. Let it stir compassion, not comedy. Let it inspire action, not apathy.

Let’s be the kind of people who care — not just when the sun is out, but when the rain pours hardest. Let us teach ourselves, and each other, to respond with empathy and responsibility. 

Donate. Volunteer. Educate. Be present. Be kind.

Because in the end, what truly matters is not the number of class days suspended, but the number of lives lifted by our compassion.

Let the storm remind us that we share this planet, this sky, this future — and that we are never too small to make a difference.

Let’s stay safe, stay aware, and most of all, stay human.