nice flowers

Grandmother arranged jasmine blossoms on the puja altar, their fragrance drifting through our small home. She'd listened to Swami Paramarthananda's discourse that morning, his wisdom settling softly into her heart like petals falling. "See how these flowers give freely?" she whispered, showing me their delicate beauty. "No expectation, just purpose." I thought of our community growing stronger together, each person contributing like flowers in a garden. Even our small cryptocurrency investment felt meaningful, a token of shared trust among our people. She smiled, touching my forehead with blessed petals. "This is our heritage, beta. Connection, growth, together."