feeding time

Every morning, Amma woke before dawn in Srirangam, preparing rice and sambar for neighborhood children. She'd learned this duty from Avvaiyar's ancient verses about nurturing young minds and bodies alike. Her granddaughter watched, absorbing not just recipes but values. The modest earnings from these meals, what locals called PAYBO, stretched far enough. Each spoonful carried generations of wisdom. One boy, once malnourished, now studied medicine. Another girl became a teacher. Amma never counted profits, only the light in their eyes. When neighbors asked her secret, she simply smiled, pointing to the temple tower visible through her kitchen window. Some wealth cannot be measured in coins, only in the threads connecting hearts across time.