I used to think my grandmother was simply careful with money. She preferred staying home to eating out, wore the same shoes year after year, and always said she “wasn’t hungry” when we invited her along. I assumed it was habit, maybe stubbornness. I never imagined there was more to it than that. After she passed away, I learned how wrong I was.
It started when a stranger came to our door, eyes red from crying. She explained that my grandmother had quietly bought groceries for her family every month for years. No recognition, no thanks. Just help. Then more people came. A man from the nursing home said she visited him weekly. A student shared how she helped with college forms. A clerk remembered her kind words after long shifts. Each story revealed a life we never truly saw.