From Single Mother to School Owner

For a long time, I kept two lists on the inside of my kitchen cupboard door. One was a list of everything my daughter needed that month: school fees, uniform, a pair of shoes she had outgrown. The other was a list of every rupee I had to meet it. For a long time, the second list was shorter than the first.

I did not know, standing at that cupboard each night, that I would one day own a school. I only knew that I was a single mother with one child, one income and an enormous, stubborn wish to give her more than I had been given.

This is the story of how that wish became a Crayons Schools franchise, and what I learned about strength along the way.

The Year Everything Changed

My marriage ended when my daughter was three. I will not dwell on it, because this story is not about that. What matters is that overnight, I became the only adult in our household. Every decision, every bill, every sleepless night belonged to me alone.

I worked as an administrative assistant in a small company, earning a salary that covered our rent, food and little else. I was grateful for it, and I was exhausted by it. I would leave home at seven, return at eight, cook, wash, read a bedtime story and then sit at the table with a calculator, trying to make the numbers behave.

I remember one evening in particular. My daughter had fallen asleep with her head on my lap while I was helping her with a drawing. I looked down at her small face and thought: I am doing everything I can, and it is still not enough. It was the loneliest thought I have ever had.

The Idea That Would Not Leave

I cannot say exactly when the idea arrived. It crept in slowly, over months of dropping my daughter at her preschool and watching the teachers there.

I noticed how they spoke to children. I noticed how a woman who earned, I assumed, a modest salary could turn a crying three-year-old into a laughing one with nothing but patience. I began staying a few minutes longer each morning, quietly observing, and a question formed that I did not dare say aloud.

Could I build something like this?

I laughed at myself. I had no savings worth mentioning. I had no business experience. I had a child to raise and a job I could not afford to lose. The idea seemed ridiculous, the kind of thing people on television did, not people who counted their coins on Thursday evenings.

But the question kept returning, in the bus, in the queue at the bank, in the quiet hour after my daughter fell asleep.

What I Did Not Have

I want to be honest about what stood between me and this dream, because I think many women reading this will recognise the list.

I did not have enough money. I did not have a partner to share the risk. I did not have anyone who could take over if I failed. I did not have a safety net of any kind.

What I had, I eventually realised, was something less visible: a very clear understanding of what a child needs to feel safe. I had spent years learning it, in the most direct way possible, by raising my daughter alone through a difficult time. I knew what steady looked like. I knew what patience cost. I knew how to make a small person feel that the world was manageable, even when it was not.

That was not nothing. In fact, I would later learn, it was almost everything.

Finding a Door I Could Walk Through

When I began researching preschool franchising, I braced myself for disappointment. Most of what I found assumed a level of capital and experience I did not have.

What struck me about Crayons Schools was the honesty of the first conversation. I explained my situation plainly: single mother, limited savings, no background in business. I expected polite discouragement.

Instead, the person on the phone asked thoughtful questions. What was my goal? How much could I realistically invest? What support would I need? Then she walked me through the investment structure, the break-even timeline and the franchise support system in plain language, without hurry and without pity.

At one point, I asked, quietly, “Is this realistic for someone like me?”

She did not say yes immediately. She said, “It is realistic if you plan carefully, use the support available and are honest about the first year. Many of our owners started where you are. Let us look at your numbers together.”

I put the phone down and sat very still. It was the first time in years that someone had treated my situation as a starting point rather than a limitation.

The Arithmetic of Courage

It took me nearly a year to prepare. I saved every spare rupee. I spoke with a bank about a loan and was refused twice before a third officer, impressed by the detailed plan I had assembled with the help of the franchise team, agreed to support me. I borrowed a small amount from my brother, and I did not sleep for most of the week that followed.

I remember the night before I signed my franchise agreement. My daughter was asleep. I sat at the kitchen table with the two old lists, the ones from the cupboard door, and a third sheet of paper on which I had written, in large letters: WHAT IF IT WORKS?

For years, I had asked only the first question, what if it fails? That night, I allowed myself to ask the second. And somehow, the second felt braver.

The Hardest Year of My Life

I will not pretend the first year was gentle. It was the hardest of my life, and I have lived through some hard ones.

I worked all day at the school and then returned to my daughter and a second shift of cooking, cleaning and bedtime. I fell asleep on the sofa more evenings than I can count. I skipped meals. I told my daughter that Amma was “very busy building something wonderful,” and she accepted it with the graciousness only a young child can manage.

There were mornings when I stood outside our classroom door with the key in my hand and felt the fear rise in my chest like water. What if nobody comes? What if I cannot pay the rent? What if my daughter grows up remembering that her mother was always tired?

But I opened the door anyway. Every single morning.

The Support I Did Not Expect

What I had not anticipated was how much I would lean on the franchise support behind me. When a staffing problem arose, I had someone to call. When I was unsure how to price my fees, there was a framework. When I felt overwhelmed, there was a community of other owners, many of whom had faced similar circumstances, who said, “Me too. Here is what helped.”

For someone who had carried everything alone for years, that was extraordinary. I had not realised how heavy the solitude had become until someone offered to share the weight.

On the worst night of that first year, a mentor from the team stayed on the phone with me for an hour while I cried about enrolments. She did not offer empty comfort. She asked me to read out my numbers, one by one, and then said, “You are closer than you think.” She was right.

What My Daughter Taught Me

I must tell you about my daughter, because she is the reason for all of this.

She was five when I opened the school, and she attended the same classrooms I had built. At first, I worried that she would feel overshadowed by the business, that she would resent the hours I spent away from her.

Instead, something unexpected happened. She became proud. She introduced me to her friends as “my Amma, who owns the school.” She stood beside me at the opening, clutching a small paper flower, and when the ribbon was cut, she whispered, “Amma, you did it.”

I had to look away.

She has since drawn me a picture, which hangs in my office. It shows a tall woman with large hands standing in front of a house with a very big door. Underneath, in her best handwriting, she has written: My Amma. She is strong.

I have never needed a certificate or a trophy. I have that drawing.

What Single Mothers Carry That Others Do Not

I have thought a great deal about why my experience as a single mother, which I once saw as a disadvantage, turned out to be the foundation of my success.

Resourcefulness. I had spent years stretching small amounts into enough. That skill transferred directly to running a lean, careful business.

Resilience. When something went wrong, I did not collapse. I had survived harder. I simply asked, “What is the next step?”

Empathy. Many of the parents who came through our doors were stretched thin themselves. I understood their exhaustion, and they felt it. Trust grew quickly.

Clarity of purpose. I was not building a business for ego. I was building one for my child and, increasingly, for the children of other families like mine. That focus kept me steady on difficult days.

Where We Are Now

Today, our classrooms are full. We have a waiting list for some age groups. I employ a team of teachers, many of them women who, like me, were once told they were not enough. My daughter, now older, still sits in the office after school, doing her homework at the table beside my desk.

I no longer keep the lists on the cupboard door. Last year, I took them down. I did not throw them away. I keep them in a drawer, as a reminder of where I began.

To Every Woman Counting Rupees at Night

If you are reading this at a kitchen table, with a calculator and a tired child asleep nearby, I want you to know that I see you. I know the arithmetic of the late evening. I know the loneliness of being the only adult in the house.

I also know that you are more capable than your circumstances suggest. The very qualities that make single parenting so demanding, grit, resourcefulness and fierce, quiet love, are exactly the qualities that build something lasting.

You do not need a partner to begin. You do not need a fortune. You need one honest conversation, one carefully planned step and the willingness to ask the second question: what if it works?

Build Something of Your Own With Crayons Schools

A Crayons Schools franchise offers proven systems, genuine franchise support and a community that understands where you are starting from. It does not remove the hard work or the fear, but it makes sure you are never carrying them alone.

If you are ready to build a school that children love and parents trust, and to build a future your own child can be proud of, we would love to hear your story. Enquire about franchise opportunities today, and begin your own journey from counting rupees to opening doors.