I read the story of October 18 about cakes and remembered my own.
In the first half of the 90s I was a student, my mother taught at the university. Once in our house appeared a large bag of scraps. Mother explained that in the studio near us they wanted to throw them out, and she accidentally came near and picked them up. The mother was able to sew, from the more or less large she carved out and sewed a variety of little things - from nose wipes to household bags, the slats smaller went on wipes for things that were worn at home. Completely unsuitable pieces were used as vets.
Many years later, shortly before her death, her mother confessed - she then arranged a cleaner in this studio. Early in the morning, while I was still asleep, she went there to wash the floor, and returned before I had to get up — all for me to be able to study peacefully. Then I went to my main job. I kept my work secret, afraid that I would quit school if I found out.
The relatives were not so that they did not help, but quite the opposite - they were sure that the popular path of students and their parents with abundant submissions would not grow to it. And they, by virtue of their intimacy, have the right to get a generous hand out of this stream. And they acted through the grandmother: "Why doesn't your daughter help relatives? You have to explain to her that she’s wrong!” And she was embarrassed to say that her daughter, an institute teacher, was washing the floors in the studio and walking home in a coat, tailored from the garbage.
Take care of your parents and grandparents who are still alive. You may not even know what they have gone through for your well-being.