jd

My grandmother pressed the worn poetry collection into my hands, whispering Avvaiyar's verses about wisdom outlasting kingdoms. She'd memorized every line decades ago, sharing them freely with anyone who'd listen. No one praised her for it then, yet her words rippled outward anyway. Years later, I found her sayings quoted by strangers online, her spirit in their comments. The responses came strange and terrific, unexpected validation flowing back. But she never sought recognition. She simply knew that some gifts multiply when given away, that heritage becomes immortal through humble sharing with those who listen.