Sarah silently watched as the car drove away. Someone had thrown out a backpack. But why? She approached and cautiously picked it up by the strap.
It was a perfectly intact, almost new school backpack, bright blue, with a pattern of cars. Heavy, too. What a good one! I’ll take it for Timmy for school, Sarah thought, barely holding back a joyful smile.
Her seven-year-old son, in his second year, was using an old, worn backpack left from his cousin. The widow couldn’t afford to buy a new one. And here was a gift from fate, which she couldn’t have expected as she walked along the country road home after her second shift.
The wind swirled trash in the air, pushing her in the back, creeping under the collar of her thin jacket. Her feet in soaked boots ached from fatigue, but she habitually turned toward the landfill. This was her small, simple rule—to stop by here on the way.
Sometimes luck smiled, like a microwave still working, or a coat that looked almost new after washing. Wealthier people often left decent things at the very edge, not daring to throw them into the pile, as if their conscience suggested leaving a chance for those worse off. This evening initially promised no find.
Old, irreparable furniture, broken toys. Sarah hunched her shoulders and was about to pass by when suddenly the roar of an engine sounded in the distance. At the edge of the landfill stopped a black luxury SUV, too out of place for such a spot.
In the silence, carefree male laughter rang out. And at that moment, a colorful backpack flew out of the open window, plopping right into the muddy dirt. The wheels spun, kicking up trash from under them, and the car sped off, dissolving in the dusty haze.
Sarah stood there, feeling an icy shiver crawl down her spine, either from the cold or from some vague premonition. Sarah looked around. No one nearby…
Two stray dogs were rummaging in a pile of garbage far away, and somewhere a bulldozer’s body rumbled. She quickly wiped the dirt off the backpack’s pocket with her sleeve. Interesting, what’s inside? Strong curiosity battled with vague anxiety.
Glancing at the road, what if the car returns? The woman hesitantly unzipped it. Inside lay neatly folded clothes, as if covering the rest of the backpack’s contents. Sarah pushed them aside, and from surprise nearly dropped the backpack…
Right under the hoodie were stacked even bundles of dollar bills, bound with bank bands. There were many, more than Sarah had seen in her whole life. Her heart pounded fast and loud.
«Lord, this can’t be true!» flashed through her mind. For a moment, her vision darkened. It seemed the ground was slipping from under her feet.
Her fingers trembled as she cautiously ran them over the top bundle. «Real money,» she thought, «huge bundles of real money.» Sarah looked around again, expecting a trick.
Maybe it’s some prank? But still no one around. She slung the backpack over her shoulder and hurried home. Under the weight of the immense wealth, the backpack pulled her shoulder down.
The woman breathed heavily, feeling her knees buckle. Fate had never given her such gifts.
Just a year ago, Sarah had lost her husband. Andrew, her beloved, died suddenly, tragically, and stupidly. A neighbor alcoholic carelessly started an old tractor, and it lurched forward, hitting the man walking along the roadside.
So Sarah, at 28, was left alone with her young son. At first, rural neighbors helped as they could, but everyone had their own bread to count. The insurance payout went to pay off accumulated loans, and her meager wages barely covered food expenses.
Soon debts piled up for gas, for electricity. The other day, the owner of the house she rented threatened to evict her and the child if she didn’t pay three months in advance. And yesterday, the school principal scolded Sarah in front of other parents.
«Your son’s notebooks and textbooks are without covers. Aren’t you ashamed?» Burning with humiliation, the young widow just silently lowered her eyes. Arguing was pointless…
And now money, unthinkable money, coming into her hands. It was hard to believe such luck. She could immediately close all debts, buy her son warm clothes and a backpack, set aside, or maybe even buy her own housing right away.
But where did these bills come from in a thrown-out backpack? Such riches don’t come just like that. From childhood, her grandmother taught that easy money leads to no good. This came to mind especially clearly now…
Fear pierced Sarah. This could be someone’s trap or dirty money. On the way home, she met her neighbor.
He, as usual, asked her. «Find anything?» called neighbor Nick, loading bags of trash. Sarah nervously shook her head.
«Just small stuff.» She didn’t want to tell anyone about the find. Not now, not later.
The less they know, the sounder they sleep. At home, locking the door with the bolt, she dumped the backpack’s contents onto the old couch.
In the dim light of the lamp, dozens of bundles of banknotes gleamed with greenish-gray colors of wealth.
Timmy, back from school, stood next to his mom, mouth agape. «Mom! Is that money?» «Real?» he whispered.
Sarah’s throat went dry, but she nodded. «Whose are they? Can we take even a little?» The child, with shining eyes, reached for one bundle. «Don’t you dare!» Sarah cried and grabbed her son’s hand.
Coming to her senses, she stroked the frightened boy’s head. «Sorry, it’s just someone else’s. Taking such is scary.
What if it’s criminal?» He was silent, gazing at the carpet of money with awe. Sarah was scared. But even scarier was deciding what to do now.
Turn it in to the police? Then, of course, they’d take it all, no money left, and maybe suspect her too. Keep it? But the owners would surely search. She remembered the expensive SUV.
What if those people return? Or maybe someone was following them? That’s why they threw it. Thoughts swirled in her head, giving no peace.
Sarah paced the tiny kitchen convulsively, fiddling with the ends of her scarf.
Tim sat next to the money, enthusiastically watching the lamp’s light play on the even bundles. «Mom, let’s hide them!» he finally suggested seriously. «What if no one claims them? Then we can buy an apartment and a bike.»
«Son, it’s very complicated!» she said quietly, kneeling next to the boy. «For such money, people can kill. If they find out we have them, better we never found them!» She stroked her son’s back, trying to figure out what to do.
It was already dark. Outside, the wind howled, the chimney hummed softly. From the next room came a crack…
It was the old window that didn’t close fully, and gusts of wind banged the sash against the frame. Sarah shuddered. Her nerves were on edge.
Need to hide all these bills, and tomorrow go to the police. She quietly asked her son to help and began stashing the money wherever possible. Some under the couch, some in the cupboard with dishes, and even in the toilet tank.
Soon there was no trace of the mysterious treasure in the house. Before bed, her son asked if they could keep a little money. Sarah just shook her head.
Can’t take what’s not yours. And, deciding to go to the police in the morning, she unknowingly fell asleep. At night, she was woken by a strange sound, as if the gate slammed in the yard.
Sarah instantly opened her eyes. In the small bedroom, it was dark, only faint moonlight fell from the window. Her heart thumped dully.
Have they come? She turned her head. Timmy was peacefully snoring next to her under the blanket. Trying not to make noise, the woman slid off the bed and tiptoed to the kitchen.
At the door leading to the yard, the dim night light bulb glowed. In its pale light, Sarah made out a shadow. Someone was outside, at the porch.
She clamped her mouth with her hand to not scream. Several long seconds—silence. Then a rustle, a quiet click, and the door shook.
For a second, Sarah didn’t understand what was happening. Then she saw the iron bolt handle slowly turning. Someone had slipped a long object through the crack in the jamb.
Sarah recoiled, freezing. «Who’s there?» she croaked, trying to make her voice firm. The handle immediately froze, but silence was the answer…
The widow’s heart pounded wildly; she had nothing to defend with. «Timmy! Need to save the child!» She rushed back to the bedroom. Waking her son, Sarah whispered.
«Quiet, sweetie! Climb out the window and run to Aunt Zoe’s! Quick!» The boy didn’t understand in his sleepiness, but his mother hurriedly pulled a jacket over his pajamas and literally pushed him through the narrow window leading to the garden toward the neighbor. Timmy yelped softly in surprise but obediently ran into the darkness.
As soon as she helped him out, a loud crack came from outside. The front door was kicked in with a crash from a strong boot. Sarah gasped.
Two strangers burst into the house. They roughly grabbed Sarah, hurling threats and demanding the money back. One of them barked.
«Where’s the money?» «Spit it out quick, or I’ll kill you!» Sarah covered her head with her hands in horror. «Just don’t touch my son! I’ll give it all!» she rasped. One of the thugs slapped the woman across the face.
Blood appeared in her mouth immediately. Her vision blurred, and her cheek burned like fire. The thugs clearly weren’t going to wait for her answer and started ransacking the house…
One flipped the couch, dragging out the hidden bundles of money, the other turned the whole kitchen upside down. Things flew around the house, rustling scattered banknotes. Sarah watched the devastation with despair.
But then a siren sounded in the yard. The police arrived. Apparently, someone had time to call the deputy after hearing the noise, and the criminals were quickly subdued.
Sarah, beaten and trembling from the ordeal, only thanked God that she and her son were unharmed. She couldn’t hold back tears of relief. Sergeant Peterson meanwhile helped Sarah up and caringly draped his uniform jacket over her shoulders.
He barely restrained his anger, looking at the beaten woman. «It’s okay, it’s okay, my dear, the villains won’t touch you anymore!» he soothed Sarah with a hoarse voice. «Your Timmy is a real hero.
He ran to us and raised the alarm. Now you’re safe.» Sarah just nodded, unable to believe the terrible night was over.
Finally, morning came. When the thugs were taken away and the police filed all the papers, Sarah sat on a stool at her gate, wrapping herself in a scarf. The pale sun rose over the town.
The paramedic was applying a bandage to her split eyebrow, and nearby on the porch sat Timmy, warming a mug of hot tea in his hands. The boy’s lips still trembled after the night’s horror, but he beamed with pride for his heroism. Her son didn’t leave his mother’s side.
«Mom?» he called timidly. «What now? Will we be poor again?» His lips quivered. He remembered how for a moment he believed in a fairy tale, and it crumbled to dust.
Sarah pulled her son close and hugged him. Her heart was filled with gratitude that God protected the most precious. «We’ll live honestly, sonny, and poverty isn’t a barrier,» she answered tenderly, kissing her son on his dark crown…
«Money is something you can earn. The main thing is that you and I are okay.» At that moment, the sergeant approached them.
He had just spoken on the phone and now smiled, looking at the mother and son. «There’s news, Sarah,» he said warmly. «You’re heroes.
Yes, yes, that money was stolen and they were looking for it. Very important evidence. You helped us get to a whole gang, imagine?» Sarah flushed.
«Really?» «I… didn’t do anything. Just caused trouble,» she said embarrassedly, adjusting the bandage slipping on her forehead. «On the contrary,» the sergeant raised his finger, as if putting a bold period.
«You played a key role, so to speak. Someone else might have run off with that sum, but you brought it home to turn it in to the police. Those smart guys deliberately threw the backpack at the landfill.
They thought to let it lie, then come back and pick it up if they saw no traces. Playing it safe. And you took it and snatched it from under their noses.
They followed you, well, and got caught. Like mice in a trap,» she shook her head, recalling how it all spun. From the strange find at the landfill to this night full of pain and fear.
Now the thieves were in handcuffs, the yard full of people, and the deputy standing nearby. «We’ve already contacted the owner of the money,» he continued, scratching the back of his head. «Explained everything as it was.
He said to leave half the amount for you. Fairly, he says, worries about your condition. Without you, he wouldn’t get that money back.»
Sarah was silent, as if words suddenly lost meaning. Half. That money was something from another life for her.
She just squeezed her fingers tighter, feeling her hands tremble. «Thank you,» she exhaled, «just thank you,» and couldn’t say another word. Timmy jumped joyfully in place…
«Yay, Mom, we’re rich,» he asked amazed, peeking over his mother’s shoulder. Sarah smiled through tears, for the first time in a long while, sincerely, happily. «Yes, son,» she said, hugging the boy tightly, «now we’re the richest, because we’re alive, and everything will be good for us.»
Behind her, the first rays of sun gilded the roofs of houses, illuminating a new day. Sarah raised her head to the brightening sky and quietly thanked fate. She knew ahead lay a not easy, but now calm life.
A life without debts, fear, and humiliations. An honest life, where there would surely be room for simple human happiness. A week later, Sarah managed to pay off all debts.
And the school principal personally praised Timmy for his bravery. Life began to improve. A month later, a solemn award ceremony for the young widow took place at the county community center.
Little Timmy stood next to his mom on stage. In the hall, almost all the townsfolk applauded loudly standing. Many wiped tears of emotion.
She was presented with a letter of gratitude and a valuable gift, noting her honesty and courage. Accepting congratulations, Sarah just smiled modestly, holding her son’s hand tightly. For her, the main thing was not the honorary certificate or gifts, but that peace, safety, and simple human happiness finally reigned in their home.
Fate didn’t spoil Sarah, rather tested her time and again for strength. It seemed, how much more could she hold on when life threw new trials. But she held on not because she was a heroine, she just didn’t know another way.
She always believed that even when there’s dirt and lies around, inside a person there should remain room for honesty and kindness. That evening was one of the hardest for her lately, both morally and physically. Fear, pain, helplessness, all mixed into one point.
However, fate repaid her, unexpectedly, but all the more significantly. Money would help, of course, but more important was something else. The feeling that truth still has weight.
That even a small person living by conscience can change the course of events and, perhaps, even their own life.