Fifty Dollar Theory

I was 23, flat broke, and living alone in Columbus.  I'd started my job the Monday after my move, but pay day was a ways away and I was not a very good planner back then.  I had, legit, all of twelve dollars in my bank account, and pay day was still a week away.
As a kid, my mother would schlep me, Ghost and Efed to the library every weekend.  I thought it was a great way to spend the weekend, and loved leaving with armfuls of books.  What I didn't realize is that was her way of providing us entertainment for free.
Sitting on the floor in my apartment (because I didn't have a sofa; the only furniture I brought with me from the Nati was my bed, my dresser and some bookshelves) I tried to figure out what I was going to do about money.  Too proud to call anyone, I sat in a contemplative sort of silence and just ... remembered.
Flashes of me and my siblings leaving the Price Hill library came to me.  I remembered our gleeful faces, the promise of new words and new stories.  It occurred to me I hadn't been to the Bexley library yet.  So I grabbed my bag and set out - on foot, to save gas.

The Bexley library is small, and reminded me so much of my beloved childhood library.  I signed up for a card and wandered the stacks, picking up a few novels and some classics.  Finding myself in the foreign language section, I randomly pulled out a book on learning German.  I'd briefly looked at the language as a teenager, but hadn't given it much thought since then.  Fuck it, I thought, and added the book to my pile.
Back home, I parcelled out one of the last granola bars I had in my already bare cupboard and started thumbing through the German book.  The book fell open to page 244.  A crisp $50 was sitting on the page, as if it was just waiting for me.
In a way, I guess it was.
I couldn't believe it.

I know, I know.  Two stories in one month about finding money at the moment when I needed it most ... Not sure how or why it happens, but it does.

Since then, I've made a point to stash a few dollars here and there in library books when I return them.  It's a small act, but a nice reminder every time I do it.