MY GRANDMA WAS THE CHE’APEST WOMAN IN THE WORLD

Growing up, I always thought my grandma was the cheapest woman alive. She would scold me for leaving lights on, save every plastic bag, and even reuse teabags until there was no flavor left. “Waste not, want not,” she’d say with a pointed look whenever I dared complain.

When she passed away, I didn’t expect much. She had always lived simply, so when I received a single envelope in her will, I figured it was some old recipe or maybe a handwritten letter. Instead, inside was a $50 gift card to a local grocery store.

I almost laughed. Of course, Grandma would leave me something practical. I considered giving it away—after all, I didn’t really need it—but something made me hold onto it.

A few weeks later, I found myself in the store, absentmindedly tossing a few things into my cart. When I reached the register, I pulled out the gift card and handed it to the cashier. That’s when everything changed.

The young woman behind the counter went pale. Her hand trembled as she took the card.

“Where did you get this?” she whispered.

I frowned. “Uh… it was my grandma’s.”

She stared at me for a long second before whipping her head toward her manager. “STOP EVERYTHING!”

The store fell silent. Shoppers froze. Employees turned to stare. My heart pounded as the manager hurried over, her expression unreadable. She took the card from the cashier, examined it closely, then looked at me with something like awe.

Follow me,” she said, motioning toward her office.

Confused, I trailed behind her. She shut the door behind us, then turned, a soft smile spreading across her face.

“Your grandmother was a legend,” she said.