নামঃ Kashfee

গল্পঃ When I was ten, our father fell seriously ill. Hospital visits became routine, income stopped, and fear filled our little home. But somehow, we never missed a meal, never skipped school. Only years later did I learn—every sari Ma didn't buy, every sweet she didn't taste, every time she walked instead of taking a rickshaw—she was saving for us. Quietly. Consistently. She kept the money in an old tea tin under the bed. That tin paid our tuition, bought medicines, and kept us off the streets. I once asked her, “Weren't you ever scared?” She smiled, “I was. But saving gave me courage.” Now when I save, I don’t just think of money. I think of her strength, her sacrifices, her silent planning. She didn’t just give me coins—she gave me the value of every coin. My first bank didn't have a vault. It had a mothers heart!