I am now 69 years old. My younger son sends me money every month, yet not a single penny ever reaches my hands. I quietly checked… and the bank’s CCTV footage left the entire family speechless.
At 69, most of my hair has turned white. Since my husband passed away, I have been living with my elder son Amit and his wife in a small town in Uttar Pradesh.
My younger son, Arvind, works abroad. From there, he calls me every month and says:
— “Mom, don’t worry. I am sending money to your account every month. Use it for your daily expenses and for your old age.”
His words always brought me comfort.
But the strange thing was that for almost a year, I hadn’t received a single rupee! I was still surviving only on my government pension.
Whenever I asked, my daughter-in-law would say:
— “Maaji, you’re old now. You don’t need to spend much. Don’t worry—we will take care of everything.”
Her words were sweet, but there was always a sting in my heart.
One day, I called Arvind:
— “Son, is there some problem? Why am I not getting the money?”
He was shocked:
— “What? Mom, I send the money every month! The bank even confirms it with calls! You should check it once.”
My heart seemed to stop.
If he was sending the money… then why wasn’t I receiving it?
Where was it going?
The next day, I went to the bank and got a statement.
The employee looked at the screen and quietly said:
— “Grandmother, the money does come every month… but within a few days, it’s all withdrawn from the ATM.”
I was stunned.
I had never even learned how to use an ATM.
So who was taking out the money?
I requested to see the CCTV footage.
As soon as the video appeared, the ground seemed to slip from under me…
I sat trembling in my chair—
The one withdrawing the money… was my daughter-in-law.
Her face calm… while her hands pulled out stacks of large notes…
I brought all the documents and pictures home.
That night, I called both Amit and his wife.
I had all the evidence in my hands. I placed the papers on the table:
— “These are the money Arvind sent all year. But I never received a single penny. Look for yourselves.”
Amit opened the file. The moment he saw his wife’s face on the video—his eyes widened.
His voice shook with anger:
— “Is this true? Did you really do this?”
My daughter-in-law fell to her knees, crying uncontrollably:
— “Ma… please forgive me… and you too, Amit. I was blinded by greed… Arvind was sending so much money… and Maaji spent very little… I thought she would save it all to give back to Arvind… and we were struggling here every month… that’s why… that’s why I withdrew it…”
It felt like a dagger had been plunged into my heart.
The pain wasn’t about the money—it was about the broken trust.
Amit shouted in rage:
— “You humiliated my mother!”
I stopped him through my tears:
— “Enough, Amit… the money will come back.
But a broken family… never comes back.
I just want one thing:
Honesty.
Don’t let greed consume your heart.”
A heavy silence filled the house.
My daughter-in-law kept crying.
Amit stood with his head bowed—in shame, in sorrow.
The next morning, my daughter-in-law returned all the money and promised never to do it again.
I forgave her… but the wound in my heart remained.
Those bank footage images…
I may never forget them in my lifetime.
A mark…
A mark of betrayal.
A lesson—
Money can change a person.
I hold no grudge against anyone.
But I will never forget.
Because the true meaning isn’t about money…
It’s about true love and family unity.
And when greed devours them…
Everything falls apart.