Are you sure your old age won’t be just as painful and humiliating? Is this really the life God intended when He entrusted us with the sacred duty of caring for one another with all our hearts? Stop. Just stop for one second, kind soul. We want to introduce you to someone very special. She’s your grandmother. And she has a homeland – Georgia.

REPOST RIGHT AWAY, MY GOOD MAN! HELP YOUR FRIENDS FIND THE WAY TO GOD!

Do you know what it means to grow old in this country? Are you sure your old age will be any different?

There’s something in her eyes that words can’t explain. Something sharper than a knife, something that makes you fall silent, feel ashamed of your rush, your busyness, your indifference.

Grandmother Maradi met us in the hallway of an old building – a former school. That’s her home now. She sat there, still and silent, as if life itself had forgotten her.

At first glance, she’s just an elderly woman in a wheelchair. But when she looked up at me, I understood: This wasn’t just about old age. This was the end – with no ending.

Her eyes didn’t hold anger, or complaints, or pleas. Only silence. A silence that breaks something inside you… As if she’d already said goodbye – to her family, to hope, to the world – and is simply waiting. Not for death. No… She’s waiting for someone – anyone – to walk in, see her, and remember her name: Maradi Arkielidze. That she’s 84 years old.

Maradi lives all alone. Her husband died long ago. She lost both of her sons: one died of cirrhosis, and the other from complications caused by an accident.

Twelve years ago, Maradi broke her leg. After a failed surgery, she lost the ability to walk. Now she can only move with a wheelchair.

Once, she had a three-bedroom apartment – her pride and joy. But three years ago, she sold it to pay for her sons’ medical treatment. “I gave away everything I had, but I couldn’t save them,” she tells us.

The new owner promised she could live in the house until the end of her life.

 As I filmed Maradi, I thought of my own grandmother. The one who raised me and loved me unconditionally. The one who would gently stroke my head as we fell asleep side by side. She passed away in the hospital during COVID… And I wanted to cry. Not because of the memories, but because I realized that every one of us – young, loved, full of purpose – will one day find ourselves old…Maybe alone, maybe forgotten. Any one of us could become Maradi.

Do we truly understand who our grandparents are? They’re not just elderly people. They are the keepers of our memory. They love differently—more deeply, more gently, without condition. They are tied to our warmest memories: the smell of baked goods, bedtime stories, endless patience, and quiet, unwavering love. They give us a sense of safety, of home – roots we long to return to.

And yet, they’re the first ones we forget. Maybe because they don’t ask. They don’t call every day. They don’t complain. They just wait. And year by year, they fade from our lives. Not because they’re leaving us, but because we’re leaving them – for work, responsibilities, distractions. And then… it’s too late.

Maradi’s only income is a pension of 450 GEL per month. “I’m not asking for much. I just don’t want to be afraid that one day I won’t even make it to the kitchen,” she says.

Her requests are simple. Human.

• An electric wheelchair, so she can feel a little bit of freedom again (approx. cost: 1,800 GEL)
• A comfortable bed, because her frail body can no longer bear discomfort
• A gas stove
• Food and personal hygiene items, to live with dignity

  

  

And when she smiles, it makes you want to cry. Because it’s not joy. It’s gratitude. Gratitude that someone came. Just came.

“Old age is like childhood – but without the hope of tomorrow. We’ll all grow old. But not everyone will want to be alone,” Maradi tells me, her voice heavy with sorrow.

A living, breathing woman – alone. Forgotten.

Georgia loves to speak of family values. But someone needs to say it:The elderly are being forgotten. And this is the truth:

According to Georgia’s National Statistics Office, by the end of 2024, the country had around 864,300 pensioners – roughly 23–25% of the population. Tens of thousands live in complete poverty and isolation. Many have no family, no access to medical care. One in three retirees lives below the poverty line.

If you’re still asking why we should help Maradi, here’s your answer: Because everything starts with family. And if the family disappears, only society remains. If we don’t extend a hand to those like Maradi – who will?

Every lari, every minute of attention – isn’t just charity. It’s salvation. It’s respect – for age, for life, and for humanity.

Maradi needs the most important things of all: care, attention, and love. Support her. Don’t let old age become a life sentence.

If you are willing to visit GrandmotherMaradi and help her in person, here is her address: Mtskheta 66 Shota Rustaveli Str. (Former school building)

Every time you can help someone, just do it, and rejoice that God answers someone’s prayers through you!

Friends, there is one more request: if you know about the misfortune of a neighbor or friend do a godly deed, drop us an email at: [email protected]

Our Fund’s accounts are:

(Purpose: The Arkielidze family).

You can also transfer money from our website: «Bank of Georgia» (bogpay.ge), «TBC Bank» (tbcpay.ge), «Liberty Bank» (PayGe), PayPal (paypal.me).

It is also possible to transfer money from ExpressPay and TBCpay terminals. Find our Fund under “Charity” section (you can read more about rights and responsibilities of the Fund following the link https://goo.gl/GYGus ).

You can save someone’s life and draw closer to God! Text 97100.

Even if you dial once this special number, it might save someone’s life: 0901200270 God bless you!