PART 8
Two years after I won the lottery, I did something unexpected.
I called Martin.
“I want to establish another trust.”
“For whom?”
“For senior women.”
He smiled.
“What kind?”
“Women who are living with family but have no financial independence.”
Martin became serious.
“What are you thinking?”
“A fund that helps them secure housing, legal advice, transportation, and emergency expenses.”
He leaned back.
“That could become substantial.”
“I want it to.”
“What should we call it?”
I thought for a moment.
Then I smiled.
“The Evelyn Mercer Independence Fund.”
Martin laughed.
“You’re putting your own name on it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because for most of my life, I was taught that women should give quietly.”
I looked at him.
“I don’t want this gift to be quiet.”
The fund grew.
At first, it helped ten women.
Then fifty.
Then hundreds.
Some needed legal help.
Some needed temporary housing.
Some simply needed enough money to leave a home where they had become unpaid labor.
Every time I signed a grant, I thought about that two-dollar ticket.
The strangest thing was that the lottery money had never felt like a miracle to me.
The miracle was what happened afterward.
It gave me the courage to stop accepting less than I deserved.
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