396

Amma counted the rupees carefully, her weathered fingers trembling slightly. Three hundred ninety-six. Just enough for the Thiruppavai recitation competition registration. Her granddaughter had memorized every verse of the sacred Tamil hymn, practicing beneath the mango tree each dawn. The online fundraiser had worked beautifully—neighbors, cousins, and old friends from the village contributed generously through their phones. When little Priya received the confirmation, she hugged her grandmother tightly, whispering the opening words of the prayer. Amma smiled, understanding that money's true value lay not in numbers, but in preserving their ancestral songs and keeping tradition alive through willing hearts.