During the 1965 war, I was in a college hostel. Every day the local authorities asked us to dig trenches and make blackout arrangements, as the likelihood of an airstrike was there. One day while cycling down to college I noticed an elderly lady and her young daughter digging a trench. They were uncomfortable doing so. I approached them and helped in digging the trench. They asked me to join them for a cup of tea. The airstrikes did place, there was damage but no casualties. Accidentally after a few days, I met them and exchanged a few words. Thereafter there was no contact as I left that city.
Twenty years later I had gone to DC’s office. I told the lady (DC) about some problem in our area which she addressed. As I was about to leave she narrated the story of the trench. I had not recognized her but she clearly remembered me. She told me that she and her mother often talked about my timely help in an unfavourable situation. I feel I did nothing great, but their greatness was that they remembered it.