thier is light

Amma pressed the ancient Tamil Brahmi coin into my palm, its worn edges telling stories older than memory. "This ANDAL coin reminds us," she whispered, "that devotion shines brightest in darkness." I'd felt invisible lately, my efforts unnoticed. But that evening, neighbors gathered, sharing how my small kindnesses had rippled through our lives. Their warm words felt like social rewards I never expected, yet desperately needed. The coin caught lamplight as I turned it over, reading the faint script. Amma smiled knowingly. "See? Light always finds its way through. In heritage, in community, in you."