For a long time, I couldn’t bring myself to use it. It felt too sentimental, like spending a piece of her memory. Eventually, while running errands one afternoon, I decided to use the card. I handed it to the cashier, expecting an ordinary transaction — but she suddenly froze, eyes wide with surprise.
The cashier looked at me softly and asked, “Where did you get this?” I explained it had belonged to my grandmother, who had recently passed. Her expression changed to a warm smile. “Your grandmother came here every week,” she said quietly. “She always talked about you — how proud she was, and how she saved to give you something special.”
When I walked out of that store, I held the card like it was something sacred. What once seemed ordinary became a priceless reminder: love doesn’t always come wrapped in grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s found in the quiet, thoughtful ways someone shows they care — the way my grandma always did.
