She paused, looked at the driver with tired eyes, and softly said:

“I once helped bring people like you into the world — with love. And now, I can’t even sit.”

Then she stepped down and walked into the snow.

The bus stayed still, doors open. Somewhere in the back, someone sobbed quietly. One by one, passengers left, leaving their tickets behind. Soon, only the driver remained, haunted by the word he couldn’t say: sorry.

The next morning, everything looked the same — coffee, route list — but something inside him had changed.

He couldn’t forget her words. Every elderly face he passed, he searched, hoping to see her again.

A week later, near the old market, he spotted her small figure. He stopped, stepped out, and whispered:

“Grandma… I’m sorry.”

She looked at him and smiled softly. No anger. Just warmth.

“Life teaches us all, son. The important thing is to listen. And you — you listened.”

From then on, he carried extra tokens in his pocket — for grandmothers who couldn’t pay. And every day, he remembered: a few words can change everything․