My grandfather, humble and kind,
Would never ask for more,
Though he gave without limit,
To us he would pour.
Wearing torn shirts despite his wealth,
He lived simply,
Never seeking luxury or stealth.
A high-ranking officer, respected and wise,
Yet his humility remained a beautiful disguise.
He never spent on himself,
No matter his need,
But for us, his generosity knew no heed.
Though his words were few, his actions told,
In every small gift, his love quietly rolled.

I remember one day, a bet we had made,
I worked hard, eager for the reward to be paid.
With excitement, I asked, "I won ! now give me my gift,"
He looked at me with eyes that seemed to lift.
“How would you like to receive your gift? In cash...