The Five-Dollar Envelope

Here is a story. As you read, ask what you would do.

Fiction, founded on truth. The people in this story are imagined; the choice they face is real.

On the first Sunday of the month, Mr. Hale stood at the front of the kids’ room holding a stack of white envelopes. He gave one to each of them. Inside each envelope was a five-dollar bill.

“It isn’t yours to keep,” he said. “It’s yours to look after. In four weeks, bring back whatever it has become. Do something good with it.”

Nora held hers with both hands. Jonah, beside her, was already whispering about lemons.

At home she put the envelope in her sock drawer, under the winter socks, where nothing ever got lost. She knew what happened to money. Last spring her older brother had spent his birthday money on a kit for making candles. The wax burned, the kit broke, and the money was gone. Everybody had been nice about it. Nora still remembered his face.

The first week, the envelope stayed in the drawer. The second week, Jonah sold lemonade on his front step with his dad sitting beside him. He made eleven dollars and spilled a whole pitcher on the sidewalk. Nora checked her drawer. Five dollars, flat and safe.

In the third week, she had an idea. Her grandfather made a soft, sweet bread every Saturday, and people at church asked him for the recipe all the time. Five dollars would buy flour and yeast and a bag of sugar. If Grandpa helped her bake, she could sell small loaves at the table after the service. Maybe she could make twenty dollars. Maybe more.