As Harvard graduates you will be asked to go into the world and do the most you
can do.
I am here to ask you to do
the least.
[LAUGHING]
I grew up in a small village in
Algeria.
Every Friday my sister and I had our
weekly shower at the public bath.
We didn't have running water at home.
On winter nights we cuddled against the cold
because our heat was cut off.
And on Sundays, we hid our hunger in order not to worry our parents.
When I was seven years old
my country plunged into a bloody civil war.
Every night I pray to
God that tomorrow there would not be an empty seat at our dinner table.
On one hot summer day in 1994 my life was changed forever by men whom I never met
do not know and can never thank.
My mother was at the local market when she
noticed a chaotic gathering
wading into the crowd she learned that the French
government was allowing some Algerians to find refuge from war.
All you had to
do was write your name on a list.
My mother desperately wanted to sign that
list. That list
might promise her daughters a
better future.
But there was one problem:
My mother was illiterate.
She did not
know how to write her name - Favilla Takjerad.
Dejected, she walked away.
A man noticed her and ran after her.
He got my mother's name and wrote it
down on the list.
[APPLAUSE]
A few months later
my family was fortunate to emigrate to
France.
I was sad to leave my beloved homeland,
caring neighbors,
childhood friends and extended family.
But I knew that
bright opportunities awaited me.
Had I stayed in my village,
assuming I was spared from bullets or bombs,
My life would have been very different.
I would not have become the first woman in my
family to graduate from college,
to work and live abroad.
I would not have had the
chance to call Harvard my home this past year.
As we are graduating today I still
find myself asking
why did this wonderful man run after my mother?
A simple gesture of writing a stranger's name on a page offered an entire family
hope for a better life.
He will probably never know the
difference he made
but from the small seeds of his goodness
have grown fruits
of prosperity
for my family
myself
and everyone who we touch.
I now have the
ability to shape my world.
But this ability was sparked by one
little encounter which lit up the course of my life.
So that is the real power,
the power of little things.
The least you can do
can bring true change.
Perhaps
you have been blessed in your lives
with small gifts that made big changes.
Maybe it was a teacher who instilled in you her love of a certain subject
Or a kind stranger who helped you with directions when you are lost.
At Harvard I see it
every day in the smiles of the cafeteria staff who keep me so well
caffeinated.
And in ad-hoc babysitting circles, small things,
such small things.
But from these small things grow inspired people,
lasting friendships and
stronger communities.
When one person thanks another the second person often
replies, oh, it's the least they can do
because often the least you can do can
can be more than enough.
You don't need to move mountains
maybe it's a matter of
translating documents for a family at immigration office who
or offering a car ride
to a pregnant lady.
You never know how these small gestures can affect
people's lives.
But I can tell you, they do.
Fellow graduates, of course do the
most you can do.
Your education and legacy demand it.
But also
do the least you can do.
Because the least we can do might turn out to be the most
significant.
And to that gentleman in Algeria,
I now say
(speaking Algerian)
Thank you and God bless you.
And to each of you today
I ask of you:
what is the least you can do
now to make the world around you a
little better.
[APPLAUSE]