Ethan had been saving for a guitar since he was 10, but one conversation on a sidewalk was enough to make him hand every dollar to a man he had never met. The following day, someone left a birthday cake at our door, and what we found inside made no sense.
By the time Ethan turned 12, he had been saving for his guitar for almost two years.
He saved part of his pocket and chore money.
Coins he found under couch cushions.
Every dollar he made from the lemonade stand he ran in our driveway each summer.
He even had an envelope in his bedroom labeled, in thick black marker, “GUITAR. DO NOT TOUCH.”
I teased him about it once. “What if there’s an emergency?”
He looked horrified. “What kind of emergency?”
“I don’t know. Pizza?”
“Mom, that’s not an emergency.”
I laughed. “Fine. That’s guitar emergency fund only.”
He had his heart set on a black acoustic guitar we’d seen months earlier at a music store downtown.
He had researched it obsessively.
He watched videos comparing strings, body shapes, and different kinds of wood.
I didn’t understand half of what he told me, but I listened.
On the morning after his 12th birthday party, he came downstairs carrying that envelope.
“Today’s the day.”
I was making coffee. “The day for what?”
He didn’t respond.
I smiled. “I’m kidding.”
He hugged the envelope to his chest. “I counted it again last night.”
“How much?”
“Three hundred and seventy-six dollars.”
I finished my coffee, grabbed my purse, and we left.
The music store was in a busy shopping area about 20 minutes away.
We parked around the corner because the closest lot was full.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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