As dusk fell, soft golden sunlight stretched across a quiet village road. Mrs. Sita, a kind-hearted woman, was returning from the market, carrying a bag of vegetables. Along the way, she noticed two beggar children — a boy and a girl — dressed in rags, faces smudged with dirt, but their eyes clear and bright like morning dew.

The older boy, about ten years old, held the tiny hand of his younger sister. They stood timidly, asking passersby for a few rupees.

Moved with compassion, Sita stopped to ask their story.
The boy’s name was Amit, and his little sister was Meena. They had lost both their parents and had been wandering the streets for months.

Sita’s heart ached. She couldn’t bear to let them go hungry, and despite knowing her husband, Ramesh, was strict and wary of strangers, she decided to take them home.

At home, she prepared a warm meal — spiced lentils, boiled vegetables, and fragrant rice. The children ate eagerly, their eyes gleaming with joy.

Sita smiled, but deep inside, she feared Ramesh would be upset.

Sure enough, when Ramesh returned from work and saw the two unfamiliar children in the house, he frowned.

“Why did you bring strangers here? We’re not wealthy people!” he said coldly.

Sita gently explained, but Ramesh was unconvinced.

That night, after sending the children off with some extra food, Sita discovered something shocking — the metal box where they kept ₹200,000 (money they had saved for years to fix the roof) was gone.

Ramesh was furious. He immediately blamed the children for stealing.

Sita was stunned. But deep down, she refused to believe that those two innocent eyes could have done something so wrong.

The next morning, Ramesh decided to find the children and confront them.
Sita pleaded to go with him.

They searched all over town and finally found Amit and Meena huddled under a banyan tree, trying to stay warm.

Amit trembled as he pulled a small cloth bundle from his pocket — inside was the exact same metal box, untouched, with the full ₹200,000 still inside.

“We saw you left it on the table,” Amit whispered. “We were afraid someone might steal it, so we kept it safe. We were going to return it this morning… but we didn’t know where you lived.”

Before Ramesh could respond, Amit reached into his other pocket and pulled out an old silver bangle.

“This is the only thing our mother left us,” he said, placing it in Sita’s hands.
“We want you to have it — to thank you for the best meal we’ve ever had.”

Amit’s eyes welled with tears.
Meena clung to Sita’s leg, beaming:

“Aunty, your food tastes just like mama’s!”

Ramesh was silent. The anger in his chest melted into shame. He turned away, trying to hide his tears.

Sita hugged both children tightly.

“From now on, you’re my children.
Come home with me.”

The four of them walked back together under the warm light of sunset.

That old silver bangle was later placed with care on the family altar — a reminder of trust, love, and humanity.

From that day forward, the small house not only got a new roof,
but was filled with laughter and joy — from two children who once had no one.