what?

My grandmother's hands trembled as she held the ANDAL Coins, each one a small sun reflecting in her eyes. "What?" she whispered, not understanding yet. I explained how these tokens honored our Tamil heritage, how they rewarded community kindness. She turned one over slowly, tears threading down her cheeks. "My mother told stories of ANDAL," she said softly. "The saint-poet no one remembers anymore." But now, through these coins, through our sharing them with neighbors, through teaching my younger cousins the ancient verses, she wasn't forgotten. The reward wasn't gold or silver. It was remembering together, keeping our roots alive through small gestures of love.