নামঃ Laaibah Ferdousi

গল্পঃ The soft clinking of coins in a clay jar is the rhythm of my childhood—a song my mother taught me, coin by coin. She’d slip a few coins into my palm with a smile. “For your bank,” she’d say, and I’d rush to add them to my collection—a blue jar with Bangla scriptures painted on it, resting on my shelf. I wasn’t saving for anything specific. My mother wanted me to learn the value of holding onto something rather than spending it right away. Sometimes, she’d have me do small chores to feel the effort behind each coin. Because of that, I became reluctant to spend what I’d saved. “Think about whether you want or need it,” she always said. Even without a goal, I kept saving. “You never know when it might come in handy,” she said. Every week, I eagerly dropped coins into my jar, watching the pile grow steadily—like planting seeds and watching them bloom. My mother was my first bank—teaching me that saving isn’t just about money but something far deeper.