She raised her granddaughter Lizzie while her daughter worked double shifts — packing lunches, braiding hair, and tucking her in with bedtime stories. Lizzie even called her Mama before she ever said “Mom.”

Years later, Lizzie had a successful life in the city, but the bond seemed unshaken. Then came the call: Lizzie was getting married. Invitations had gone out weeks ago — except to her.

When she asked Lizzie why, the answer crushed her: “Because you couldn’t afford the $2000 guest contribution.”

The woman wept that night, believing her granddaughter was ashamed of her simple life. The next evening, a knock came. Lizzie stood there, trembling, with her fiancé holding flowers.

Through tears, Lizzie confessed the truth: there was no fee, only a clumsy lie to cover a surprise. “I’ve never been ashamed of you, Mama. You’re the guest of honor.”

Two weeks later, the woman sat in the front row of a dazzling wedding, wearing the dress Lizzie had bought her, tears in her eyes as her granddaughter walked down the aisle — still her Lizzie, always her Lizzie.