A shabbily dressed old woman collecting scrap entered a bank to withdraw two million rupees to pay for her grandson’s tuition, and the outcome left the entire teller speechless.

In the scorching heat of the Indian summer, while everyone sought shelter under the shade of banyan trees, a frail, elderly woman with gray hair and a worn-out cloth bag walked into the teller’s office of a large bank in a small town.

She wore a faded sari, stained with dust and ink, and the lingering scent of sweat from the discarded cardboard boxes made some customers waiting for service wrinkle their noses and avoid her. But she calmly said to the receptionist, “I want to withdraw two million rupees… to pay for my grandson’s tuition. The deadline is today…”

The employee glanced at her from head to toe, unable to hide her displeasure: “Please sit and wait over there. Have you taken a number?” Her response was one of confusion: “I… I don’t know how to get one…”

And so she was left alone, with no one to guide her. No kind glance. Three hours passed. She sat there, neither eating nor drinking, her eyes glued to the electronic screen, waiting for her name to appear, unaware that no one had entered her name into the system…

Three hours… for an elderly woman in India that summer, it was an exhausting afternoon. The old woman was parched, but didn’t dare go out to buy water for fear of losing her place or her turn. Occasionally, she would look down at her old cloth bag, inside which, besides her savings passbook, were a few loose rupees and her grandchild’s tuition receipt.

Seeing her sitting there for so long, a young security guard passing by asked out of curiosity. After hearing her story, he was startled – it turned out she hadn’t taken a number, so no one had called her. He quickly helped her to the priority counter.

When the passbook was placed on the counter, the teller, initially indifferent, froze upon seeing the account holder’s name. She looked up, her eyes filled with confusion:

“You… are Arjun’s mother?”

She slowly nodded. Arjun… was the bank security guard who sacrificed himself five years ago, saving customers from an armed robbery. His photograph was still proudly displayed in the main hall with a wreath of fresh marigolds, but few knew that his elderly mother now had to scavenge for scrap metal to support her orphaned grandson.

The entire transaction room fell silent. The branch manager quickly stepped forward, taking her frail hands, his voice choked with emotion:

“Mother… our bank has established a gratitude fund for Arjun’s family. From now on, you don’t need to withdraw your savings anymore. We will cover your grandson’s tuition and living expenses for life.”

The old woman was stunned, tears streaming down her face, mingling with her choked sobs. The guests who had been so aloof moments before now bowed their heads. The atmosphere fell silent, broken only by the whirring of the ceiling fan and the sobs of a mother who had suffered too much loss, but at least today… she was no longer alone.