Black Girl Draws Stephen Curry on a Piece of Bread Paper – His Reaction Left Everyone in Shock! | HO

At dawn in East Oakland, Jasmine Williams, a 12-year-old Black girl with dreams bigger than her circumstances, woke quietly in the cramped apartment she shared with her mother and two younger siblings. Her days started early, not with cartoons or carefree laughter, but with the responsibilities of adulthood—making thin sandwiches from the last slices of bread, comforting her siblings, and preparing for another day of hustling on the city streets.

Jasmine’s mother, Denise, worked three cleaning jobs to keep the family afloat after their father left. Every penny mattered. After school, Jasmine didn’t join art clubs or play with friends. Instead, she sold homemade sweets on the sidewalk to help pay bills. But even in struggle, Jasmine found moments to nurture her gift: drawing. With pencils scavenged from classroom trash and scraps of bread paper donated by a kind baker, she captured the world around her—especially the face of her hero, Golden State Warriors star Stephen Curry.

One afternoon, Jasmine sat at her makeshift stand on Market Street, her siblings nearby, the aroma of cookies mixing with the city’s summer heat. Next to the sweets, she displayed her latest portraits of Steph Curry, each one drawn with remarkable detail on the humble bread paper. The unusual medium gave her art a unique, textured quality. Passersby usually ignored her, but that day, a man in a suit stopped, mesmerized by her work.

“How much for this?” he asked, pointing to a Curry portrait. Jasmine hesitated—she’d never sold a drawing before. “Twenty dollars?” she ventured. The man handed her the cash without a second thought, and Jasmine’s world shifted. With that money, she could buy groceries and medicine for her mother.

Inspired, Jasmine stayed up late that night, sketching more Curry portraits by the dim light of a single lamp. The next morning, she set up her stand again, this time pricing her drawings at $15 each. Some scoffed at the price, but by afternoon, she’d sold another. Each sale was a small victory, a glimmer of hope.

Then, everything changed.

News spread that a big community event was coming to Jefferson Square—celebrities, music, free food. Jasmine knew this was her chance. She worked through the night, creating seven new Curry portraits, each more expressive than the last. On the day of the event, she and her siblings set up their stand near the entrance, arranging the drawings for maximum visibility.

As the crowd swelled, Jasmine sold sweets and a few drawings, but the real excitement began when whispers rippled through the square: “Steph Curry is here!” Jasmine’s heart pounded. Her idol—the man whose determination and skill she’d captured so many times—was just steps away. But she couldn’t leave her stand; responsibility kept her rooted.

Suddenly, the crowd surged as Curry began a walk through the neighborhood. Jasmine’s siblings stood guard at the stand, clutching her drawings. As Curry’s entourage approached, the NBA star’s eyes fell on the bread paper portraits. He stopped, captivated. The crowd hushed.

“Who made these?” Curry asked, picking up a drawing. Marcus, Jasmine’s brother, pointed shyly toward his sister, who was still pushing through the crowd. Security parted the sea of people, and Jasmine, trembling, stepped forward.

“You drew this?” Curry asked, crouching to her level. Jasmine nodded, barely able to speak. “How old are you?” “Twelve,” she managed.

Curry studied the portrait—a perfect likeness, alive with emotion, drawn on a piece of bread paper. He noticed the $15 price in the corner. “How much for all of them?” he asked. Jasmine did the math. “Seventy-five dollars,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Curry smiled and handed her several crisp bills—much more than she’d asked for. “Artists deserve to be valued,” he said, looking her in the eye. “Especially artists who have to fight harder to create.”

The crowd erupted in applause. Jasmine’s tears fell freely as she thanked him, her siblings looking on in awe. Curry wasn’t done. He asked what school she attended, then turned to his assistant and said, “Let’s help develop this incredible talent.”

Just then, Denise arrived, breathless and confused by the commotion. Curry introduced himself and praised Jasmine’s extraordinary gift. He spoke with Denise about helping Jasmine pursue her art, promising to follow up.

News of the encounter spread like wildfire. Videos of Curry kneeling on the sidewalk, admiring Jasmine’s bread paper portraits, went viral. Calls flooded the Williams’ modest home—journalists, TV shows, art foundations. Jasmine was overwhelmed, but Denise reassured her: “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

Then came a call from Rachel Meyers, director of the Steph Curry Foundation for Arts and Education. “Mr. Curry was deeply moved by Jasmine’s talent,” she explained. The foundation offered Jasmine a full scholarship to the Oakland Young Artists Program, professional art supplies, and a mentor.

Three days later, a van delivered boxes of art materials—easels, canvases, paints, pencils, and more—enough for Jasmine to create without limits. Inside one box was a handwritten note from Curry: “Your talent left me speechless. I hope these materials help you tell your story. Sometimes all we need is someone who believes in us. Keep drawing. Keep dreaming. – Steph Curry”

A week later, Jasmine was the guest of honor at the opening of the Sidewalk Art Studio, a new community space for young artists from underprivileged backgrounds. The old storefront, once abandoned, was now alive with color, light, and hope. Jasmine’s bread paper portraits of Curry hung in the windows, a testament to her journey.

In front of a crowd of neighbors, reporters, and city leaders, Curry addressed the audience: “Talent can come from anywhere. Jasmine reminds us all that greatness isn’t about where you start, but about believing in yourself and having someone believe in you.”

Jasmine’s story didn’t just change her life—it inspired a community. Her courage and creativity, recognized by her hero, became a beacon for countless other children who dream with little more than hope and determination. In Oakland and beyond, the image of a young Black girl drawing Stephen Curry on a piece of bread paper—and the NBA star’s powerful response—remains a symbol of the transformative power of art, compassion, and believing in the impossible.