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Makkatperu (The Wealth of Having Children) · Verse 70Listen in Tamil

மகன்தந்தைக்கு ஆற்றும் உதவி இவன்தந்தை என்நோற்றான் கொல்எனும் சொல்.

Magan thanthaikku aaRRum udhavi ivan thanthai EnnooRRaan kolennum sol.

"Kural 70 — Makkatperu. A child's highest gift to their parent is making people ask 'what great deeds did this parent perform, to deserve such a child?' Thiruvalluvar's most honest teaching on parental legacy."

ThirukkuralMakkatperu (The Wealth of Having Children)Thinking about what kind of legacy you want to leave as a parentReflecting on what your child's character says about your parentingWondering how to think about the long-term work of raising a person

Thirukkural 70 — The Test of Parenting Is What Your Child Becomes

Kural 70 of 1,330Published Jun 8, 20265 min read

Simple English meaning

Valluvar says: the greatest service a child renders their parent is making people around them say — "what great deeds must this parent have performed, to deserve such a child?" That admiring question, asked by others, is the highest gift a child gives back.

Practical life lesson

This kural closes the beautiful sequence of Chapter 7 — Makkatperu, the wealth of children. Where earlier kurals explored what parents give and experience, this one closes the loop: it turns to what a child gives back — and the answer is surprising.

உதவி (udhavi) means help, service, a genuine benefit rendered. Not flattery, not obligation fulfilled, but real help that actually improves someone's standing.

The service a child renders its parent, says Valluvar, is a specific thing that other people say. இவன்தந்தை என்நோற்றான் கொல் — "what great deeds did this one's father perform?" The word நோற்றான் (nooRRaan) refers to merit earned through great living — the kind of sustained, excellent conduct that earns extraordinary results. It carries the sense of something deeply practised, not casually stumbled upon.

This question is being asked by others, admiringly, when they encounter an excellent child. And the asking itself is the gift — because it reflects the quality of the parent, not through anything the parent does in that moment, but through who the child has become.

This is Valluvar at his most honest about legacy. Your child, by becoming genuinely excellent, makes people wonder about you. The excellence of the child is the evidence — and the reward — of the parent's investment.

  1. The gift is indirect — and that is the point. Valluvar doesn't say the child praises the parent or credits them in a speech. The gift is what the child simply is — their character, their way of being, their excellence in the world. That is what causes people to wonder about the parent who raised them.
  2. "What great deeds did this parent perform?" is a question about character, not wealth. The admiration is not "what resources did this parent have?" It is "what kind of person must this parent have been, to raise someone like this?" The excellence being admired is character — and character is formed at home, over years, by the quality of relationship and attention given.
  3. This kural places the long game at the centre of parenting. The results it describes — a child excellent enough to make people wonder about their parent — take decades to arrive. There is no shortcut. What Valluvar is asking parents to invest in is not visible for a long time. The kural is, quietly, a lesson in patience and faith in the daily work.

A modern example

Vijay had been a quiet, steady father. He had not given speeches about values. He had not pushed his son toward any particular path. He had been present — at dinners, at difficult conversations, at the moments when his son came home confused or hurt or uncertain.

He had not always said the right thing. But he had always shown up, listened, and tried to be the kind of person his son could bring problems to.

His son was now thirty-two, working in a field that had nothing to do with his father's background. He was known, in his circle, for his honesty — his willingness to say difficult things carefully, to hear the other side, to change his mind when he was wrong.

One evening, a colleague who knew both of them said to Vijay: "How did you raise someone like that? Seriously — what did you do?"

Vijay didn't have a clean answer. He thought about the dinners. The long conversations. The years of simply being there.

"I just tried to be someone he could talk to," he said.

His colleague nodded slowly. "It shows."

That question — what did you do? — is exactly the one Thiruvalluvar was pointing at. It is not given by the child directly. It arrives through who the child has become, and the people who encounter them.

How to apply today

  1. Ask yourself: what question do I want people to ask about my child's parent? Not "what school did they go to?" or "what do they earn?" What quality of character — honesty, kindness, thoughtfulness, courage — do you most want people to notice in your child? That is where your investment should go.
  2. Be the person you want your child to become. Children watch more than they listen. The values they absorb are not from the lessons you teach — they are from the way you live when you think no one is paying attention. The nooRRaan — the great living — that Valluvar refers to happens daily, in small acts.
  3. Think in decades. This kural describes something that takes a very long time. The question "what great deeds did this parent perform?" is only asked when the child has had time to grow into someone genuinely excellent. The patience required is real. The investment is daily. The result is slow and certain.
  4. Let your child's excellence be its own reward. The kural frames this as udhavi — a gift back to the parent. But the best parenting is done without waiting for that return. Raise the child for the child's sake. The admiring question from others is a byproduct of good parenting, not its goal.

There is a kind of parenting that is about control — getting the child to perform as instructed. And there is a kind that is about cultivation — helping a person grow into something genuinely excellent that is their own. Valluvar describes the legacy of the second kind: a child who makes people wonder, admiringly, what their parent must have been like. That wondering is the real reward.

A question to sit with

Reflect

If the people who know your child well were asked "what kind of parent raised this person?" — what would you hope they would say? And does how you spend your time with your child actually point toward that answer?