This year’s sun, brighter and warmer than ever, carried us through spring and summer as though autumn might never arrive. But after weeks of drizzle and chill fighting for entry, the season finally broke through. Last week’s GoodGym session had been cancelled because of the rain, leaving everyone eager to meet again.

From the buzz in the WhatsApp group, you could tell how much we had missed one another. When the week’s location was announced, I checked the website. The name looked familiar, so familiar that a picture formed in my mind. I wondered, could it be that place? After running, I arrived and saw the group gathered. Yes, it was the same spot. Years ago, I had passed by here often when it was nothing but a rubbish dump. I used to hope that one day it would be transformed. And now, here it stood, not a forgotten corner but a jewel. Warm, caring hands had not just lit a candle here, they had hung a chandelier. The little olive bonsai gave the place a spirit of peace.

Placed between a mosque and a church, the corner felt like a symbol of harmony, an oasis where people of different backgrounds could meet. That evening, the warmth of the group outweighed the chill of autumn. Seeing Mishael, a new member, added even more energy. Soon, Khan, our host, came from a nearby house. Friendly and full of life, he explained our task, to pull up the weeds so the plants could breathe and grow. Unlike most hosts who specify what to remove, Khan simply trusted us to decide. At first, the task felt uncertain, but with guidance from experienced members, piles of weeds quickly took shape.

As always, conversations flowed. At one point, I asked Khan if his name began with “KH.” When he confirmed, we spoke about the meaning of names. I told him names are small miracles that can shape personality and destiny. When I shared that my own name means “someone who helps,” he smiled and admitted his middle name means “garden.” With a laugh, he added, “I never thought I’d actually be part of building one.” That is the quiet power of names.

By the end, we had gathered far more weeds than expected, pressing them down to fit into bags. Yet the work felt light, the warmth of the group kept the evening glowing. Even after Khan announced the end of the session, no one was in a hurry to leave. We stayed, talking and enjoying the space we had helped care for.

The GoodGym Liverpool family is truly something special. Once again, empathy and cooperation turned a small act into a meaningful transformation. We showed that community development doesn’t come from big budgets or loud slogans, but from simple things, shared effort, warm hearts, and the desire to make a place better.

Because when hands join with hope, even the coldest corner can become a garden of peace.

In today’s age of dazzling lights and constant motion, the humble glow of a candle may seem too faint, too insignificant to notice. Yet, in many forgotten corners of our cities, such small lights can shine brightest, offering warmth, encouragement, and hope where they are needed most.

In line with the ongoing community efforts of GoodGym, our group received a call for cooperation from such a corner of the city. It was a place that, though overlooked, had long served as a quiet beacon for the surrounding houses. Years ago, the locals had transformed part of their neighborhood into a small green space: a table and several large planters stood there, inviting but worn, needing care and attention. Dust and erosion had left their marks, but not their spirit.

Our group arrived in three stages to restore this space. The table and planters were carefully sanded, with two planters freshly painted. The area was swept clean, giving it back its charm and freshness. While some members worked on sanding, pruning, and tidying, others collected stray items scattered around the neighborhood. The energy was high, the atmosphere warm and lively.

The day became even more special with the arrival of two new members and the long-awaited presence of Ema. Some of us had known Ema only through chats and emails, but meeting her in person added a new spark. Her kind words and cheerful presence doubled the warmth of the gathering.

Yes, in that small corner of the city, we lit a candle once again. The joy was visible not only among us but also in the smiles and gestures of the locals, some waving from their cars as they passed by. Their response was proof that even the smallest light can rekindle a sense of connection and belonging.

After completing the restoration, we shared a short reflection together and then, with a smile, visited what we jokingly named “Ema Lake.” In truth, it was no grand lake at all, just a small pond surrounded by plants, but since Ema had mentioned it a few times, the name stuck and added a lighthearted touch to the day. Standing there, laughing together, it felt like the perfect closing to a day of meaningful work, fun, and renewed friendships.