A certified letter…two million dollars…a year from now.
I read it. I read it again. I read it a third time. It took me about two seconds to spend the money in my mind. My debts are paid off. I buy the big house with two offices, and a mother-in-law quarters. The kids have fully funded college funds. I fill up my passport pages. I shop a publisher, hire a local artist to design my cover… And then I stop…
This is not lottery winnings. It’s not a government grant. That two million dollars distracted me from the most important word in the letter.Inheritance…
My mind goes crazy. Does somebody have to die so that I get the money? Dear God, please don’t let any of my loved ones have to die.
Which one of my relatives believed in me enough to fund my dream? Is it the cousin couple I love who always tells me how much they enjoyed my blogs? Is it my favorite aunt? (If you’re reading this, I’m talking about you.) Did my daddy have money stashed away in some foreign account and they are just finding me? Are my siblings getting the same amount, or do I need to split this with them?
The wonder of the reward is replaced by the responsibility of the gift. I stop thinking about my dream kitchen with the gray granite tile and start wondering how to feed hungry souls.
Someone loved me enough to honor me with a gift. I have the opportunity to honor them with mine.
To my benefactor(s), real and imagined. Thank you. Your support is more than I could have imagined. My biggest dream is that you find yourself in one of my stories.
Love Always,
Mama Radford
TheWRITEaddiction.com 
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