Growing up, my grandma’s birthday gift was always the same—one simple, old postcard. At seventeen, I thought it was strange and often rolled my eyes, wishing for something more. When she passed away, I never imagined those postcards held a meaning deeper than I could understand at the time.

Twenty years later, visiting my childhood home, I discovered a jar filled with seventeen postcards—one for each birthday she had quietly celebrated with me. As I read the messages, my heart stopped. Each postcard carried a small poem she had written about me, reflecting on that specific year. Her words were tender memories, gentle advice, and personal hopes for my future, all wrapped in heartfelt love.

It hit me then that these postcards were the most precious gifts she could have ever given. Unlike material things that fade or disappear, her words were timeless treasures—guiding me, comforting me, and connecting me to her even after she was gone.

I brought the jar home and proudly displayed the postcards on my wall. They have become my most cherished possession, a lasting reminder that family’s true gift is love that transcends time. Thank you, Granny Elizabeth. I love you always.