And she made sure we were okay—even after she was gone.
I mowed the lawn for the 82-year-old widow next door.
The next morning, a sheriff knocked on my door.
“Mrs. Carter was found dead. That’s exactly why we’re here.”
He pointed at my mailbox.
“Open it.”
Inside was an envelope.
A check for $250,000.
And a note:
“You’re a good girl. Don’t forget that.”
She changed her will three weeks earlier—leaving her estate to those who showed her kindness.
I was one of them.
Because I helped her when I didn’t have to.
The sheriff had said, “Then you won’t mind explaining this.”
I screamed when I saw the check—not from fear, but from shock.
From gratitude.
Continued on the next page
