She handed me a thick envelope and told me not to open it until after the show. I spent the entire performance wondering what could possibly be inside. When I finally tore it open backstage, I found old photographs, several letters, and a bank statement showing an account with my name on it. She had been putting money aside for me every month since the day I entered music school. I stared at the balance in disbelief. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to help me buy better equipment and finally record the album I had been postponing for years.
...
