*Use this for your dreams, sweet girl.
You deserve it.*
It was from her. Mrs.
Coleman.
I stood there, clutching the note, feeling the weight of her words.
She had given me that money. Somehow, she had found a way to make my dreams come true. I could go to university now.
I could become something.
Someone.
It took me a few days to decide what to do. In the end, I didn’t apply to the university.
I went to the hospital to see Mrs. Coleman and was glad I did.
Nobody else visited her.
She was still in her coma, not knowing who was around her. And on the fifth day of her being there, she passed away in the middle of the night.
In the end, I didn’t apply to the university. Instead, I walked into the nursing home office and handed them a check for $50,000.
“Use it, Miranda,” I said to the woman in charge.
“Fix the leaky roof in the dining hall.
Renovate rooms. Buy a new TV.
Let’s make life here better.”
I donated most of the money to charities for orphans. And I kept a fair amount to get me into nursing school by night.
When I was qualified, I wanted to work at the nursing home properly.
And full-time.
Mrs. Coleman seemed to know me better than I knew myself.
As I stood outside her room a few days later, watching the sunlight filter through the window, I realized something. Maybe this was my dream all along.
What would you have done?
