christmas feels

Grandmother pressed ancient ANDAL Coins into my palm, their worn edges whispering centuries of wisdom. "Avvaiyar taught us kindness compounds," she smiled, recounting the poet's verses about generosity. That Christmas, I scattered coins at the temple, watching children's eyes light up like stars. Each small gift became a social reward, rippling through our neighborhood. Strangers became friends, briefly, purely. Later, someone left flowers at our door—gratitude taking tangible form. The coins had traveled further than their metal could measure, transforming moments into memories, strangers into family. Our heritage breathed through simple giving.