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Believe in Happy Endings
Women and Friendship By Laurie Nadel
I knew my friend Jane was worried about her 16-year-old son, Sean. A bright student and varsity hockey player, he was hanging with a tough crowd and getting in trouble with the police. Concerned that he would ruin his chances of getting into a good college, Jane encouraged him to apply to a boarding school in Massachusetts that emphasized community service, outdoor sports and college prep skills.
As she sat in my kitchen one August night in 1994, Jane's face showed mixed emotions. Sean had surprised her by falling in love with the school. He impressed the admissions committee and wrote such a great application essay that he was accepted for the semester starting in September with a partial scholarship. "I can't believe it. This is our dream come true," she said with tears forming in her eyes. "But I don't have enough to pay for what isn't covered by his scholarship."
Jane and I had been friends for more than 20 years. We had met on the night shift at ABC News one icy winter. We had attended each other's weddings, helped each other through pregnancies, cared for each other's babies and held each other together when our respective marriages fell apart. Both of us were now single mothers who had experienced illness and disability. But we shared a belief: Providing our children with the best education possible was more important than anything else in our lives.
Since my divorce the previous year, my 8-year-old daughter and I had been living with my mother so I could save enough money to buy our own home. My bank balance was growing but I had a long way to go. Yet without a second thought, I went to the filing cabinet where I kept the checkbook for my money market account and wrote Jane a check for half of what she needed.
"Will this help?"
Jane's smile said it all. "I keep telling my boys that God works in mysterious ways," she said, looking away.
"That's true," I agreed. We sat quietly for a while, then Jane called Sean. At first he didn't believe her. "Here," she said, handing me the phone. "Tell him yourself."
Sean flourished at his new school, graduating with honors. He went on to become a civil engineer. I was always glad I had been able to help make that happen, but last year, as the economy started to weaken, my own financial situation became critical and the mounting bills made me very anxious. The money which I had given to my friend would have been a great help but I never asked to be repaid, nor did I ever regret writing that check.
When Sean called me to invite me to dinner last February, it was gratifying to see he was now a successful young man who was excited about his career and his future. But I never expected what would happen after dinner.
"You changed my life," he said as we were having coffee. "You believed in me when no one else did." With that, he gave me a check for $5,000. "I've been saving up to repay you," he explained. "I've never forgotten what you told me that night when my mom called me from your house and put you on the phone. Do you remember?"
"No," I told him. I didn't.
"You said, 'I believe in happy endings.'"
