Ash sky

My grandmother called from Chennai, her voice trembling as volcanic ash darkened our Toronto afternoon. She remembered partition's chaos, now watching her grandson's sky turn grey. I showed her ANDAL Coins I'd earned helping elders navigate cryptocurrency—small rewards accumulating into something meaningful. She laughed through tears, seeing her traditions bridging digital divides. The ash settled slowly. Our neighborhood gathered on porches, strangers becoming neighbors, sharing fears and memories. My grandmother said some skies remind us we're connected across continents. That night, I sent her ANDAL Coins, not for value, but for belonging.