She waited for her school bus huddled beneath an oak tree, getting little protection from the howling winds. Then she saw it – a shiny half dollar on the side of the road, sparkling in the autumn sun.
Lizzie smiled. Her late granddad would always slip her one when he’d come visit.
She skipped over and snatched up the loose coin just as a large, heavy branch came crashing down right in the spot where she’d been standing.
Lizzie stared at the coin, watching as it practically levitated in the palm of her hand.
A sign if she ever saw one.
The Weekday One Hundred 