At Thành Nam Market, people are used to seeing an elderly woman with a thin frame and worn-out clothes, stooping every day to collect discarded vegetables and wilted leaves thrown away by the vendors. Her name is Nguyễn Thị Lựu, now over 70 years old.

Her husband died young, leaving her to raise their only son alone. But just when her grandson turned three, her son was diagnosed with end-stage kidney failure. Terrified of hardship, her daughter-in-law left, abandoning the boy to her. Since then, grandmother and grandson have relied on each other to survive. Her son only held on for a few more years before passing away.

Old and frail, Mrs. Lựu couldn’t get hired anywhere. She could only collect scraps and recyclables to sell. On good days she might earn a few hundred thousand đồng; on bad days just a few tens of thousands. They saved every coin, and most meals consisted only of a bowl of boiled greens picked up from the market. Her greatest wish was to live a few more years to see her grandson finish school and become a good person.

One bitterly cold winter day, while returning from picking up recyclables, she suddenly noticed a dusty black leather wallet on the roadside. It felt heavy in her hands. Opening it, she was stunned: all cash, roughly counted at more than 330 million đồng. She froze, thinking of her grandson’s school fees, of their days of hardship… but then shook her head: “It’s not mine. I must return it.”

She patiently stood by the roadside, waiting for the owner to come back. A while later, a luxury car slowed down and the driver leaned out:

— “Grandma, did you see a black leather wallet around here?”

Hearing the exact description, Mrs. Lựu was relieved and handed it over. The man opened it and instantly his face darkened:

— “This isn’t right! There was more than 600 million in this wallet. Why is there only over 300 million now? You took it, didn’t you?”

Startled, her eyes welled up with tears:

— “I’m old and make a living picking trash. Where would I get the nerve to take your money? I even stood here waiting to give it back…”

But he snapped, insisting she had taken the missing money. Trembling, she pulled 240,000 đồng from her pocket — her day’s earnings from selling scrap — and pleaded:

— “This is all I have. Even if you kill me, I have nothing else to give you…”

Just then, a young woman stepped down from the car, holding an umbrella over her father:

— “Dad, what’s going on?”

After listening to Mrs. Lựu’s story, the young woman frowned, then turned to her father firmly:

— “Dad, did you forget? This afternoon you already gave over 300 million to Mr. Hưng for the shipment. How could there still be 600 million left in your wallet?”

The man froze, scratching his head with an awkward smile. The young woman shot him a slight look, then took a wad of cash from her own wallet and pressed it into Mrs. Lựu’s hands:

— “Grandma, maybe Dad remembered wrong. Please take this to buy some food for you and your grandson. You’re a kind person — heaven will surely bless you.”

The luxury car drove off, leaving the old woman standing still, tears rolling down her cheeks but a warm feeling rising in her heart.

That night, when she got home, her grandson asked innocently:

— “Grandma, why are you home so late?”

She patted his head and smiled:

— “Grandma just helped someone with something, so she came home a little late.”

The little girl cheered, giving a thumbs-up:

— “My grandma is the best!”