I crumpled the $20 bill in my hand and passed it through a handshake. With Ramadan's two brothers standing by, a public display of charity would not have done well. No one anywhere likes to accept charity, I suspect. A farmer's family on this scenic -- and impoverished -- slice of Macedonian soil was no different.

"No, no, no," he said, politely refusing. His voice quickly faded and so did his protest. Earlier that morning I heard Ramadan on the phone with relatives in Germany. His family took in more than 20 refugees, all ethnic Albanians from Kosovo. This common act of good will last spring kept many Albanians alive.

But it had another effect: it further stretched the resources of a struggling people. My English interpreter (also a refugee) told me the family just could not feed everyone. This family took me in the previous two nights and fed me delicious meals.

My $20 could not have counted for much. Perhaps Ramadan did not have to stand in the free food line down the street for one day. Maybe the 10 refugee children had a bigger meal. Whatever it counted for, I know my small donation helped. Every little bit helps.

Flash back to the spring of 1998. I am in St. Louis de Nord, a city of 10,000 in northwest Haiti. There is no running water. No electricity. No paved streets. The idea of three square meals a day is foreign. Even one meal is hard to come by.

In my week there, Mark and I became good buddies. This smiley 13-year-old was the oldest of six siblings. His family lived in a two room hut. His sisters and brothers were adorable, smiles all around.

Breakfast, a meal of government mush, was the only meal Mark's family ate. It was all they could afford, he said. But his stick-thin arms and small stature told me enough.

Mark was a great tour guide. One day we hiked up into the mountains, me with my $250 hiking boots, he with his bare feet. We stopped for a break and split my Power Bar. I overheard him say to another boy that I was an especially nice white person.

That week our group gave away free food: a bag of rice and a couple tins of chicken to each family lucky enough to be in the front of the line. The scene outside the gates was absolute mayhem. And when they collected their food, the people were all smiles.

"What you've done here is given these families relief," the mission's director told us. "Even if it's just for one day, at least for that day the family won't have to worry about where the next meal is coming from."

Every little bit helps.

Tomorrow is USA Weekend's "Make a Difference Day." If everyone pitches in a teensy bit, the combined power can do a lot of good.

Two local groups have registered at www.usaweekend.com. Alpha Phi Omega, a national service fraternity, is sponsoring a clean-up day in Athens. And Havar, Inc., is doing trail maintenance at a wheelchair accessible site at a local state park. Their little bit will help. Anyone is welcome to join one of their efforts.

Maybe you do not want to get out of bed Saturday morning, or maybe you do not have time to help. But there is something that only takes a few seconds.

When you get online today (as most of those who read this will), take 30 seconds and go to this Web site:

www.thehungersite.com

Once there, click on the link marked "donate free food." You will go to a page filled with advertisers who pay money (in exchange for the exposure) that buys food. Just this week I donated 12 cups of rice, simply by clicking once a day. More than 4,000,000 servings have been donated - one click at a time.

If everyone on this campus took one minute to click, we could donate 30,000 cups of rice. If we clicked once a day for the next week -- the possibilities are endless.

Celebrate Make a Difference Day and visit www.thehungersite.com. Together, we can truly make a difference. If enough people click, maybe Mark's family will eventually eat two meals a day.

Straziuso is a journalism graduate student. He can be reached at js937894@ohiou.edu.