More Money from Heaven

This article was written by Marion Brenish
posted under

In 1989, Fate published my proof of survival. I found that the story didn’t end there. Originally, I wrote about how my brother Peter never forgot my birthday, although we were usually separated by hundreds or thousands of miles. A card would always arrive with a crisp new bill-usually a twenty. Peter’s sudden passing, at age thirty-six, devastated me. Two months later, on the eve of my fortieth birthday, I thought sadly of how there would be no special greeting awaiting me the next day. Then I had a very vivid dream; in it, my brother assured me that he remembered the occasion and would send a gift.

The next day found me on vacation in San Francisco. After a day of exhaustive sightseeing, including many an uphill climb, my companion and I were looking forward to a rest back at the hotel. Inexplicably, instead of taking the shortest, most logical route, I insisted that we take a much longer way. While waiting for a traffic light to change, a gentle breeze blew something against my ankle. Looking down, I saw a crisp, new, twenty-dollar bill.

Nine years later, I found myself rushing across the country to be at my father’s bedside in the intensive care unit; Dad had suffered a heart attack and the prognosis was grim-our family was already thinking of the final arrangements. Three weeks had passed and he was still hovering between this world and the next. One day, instead of my usual lunch in the hospital cafeteria, I felt a compelling urge to get take-out for a nearby park that had been Peter’s favorite. Relaxing there, I felt his presence. In my mind, I could hear him saying that the doctors were wrong, that Dad would recover, and he would show me a sign. Walking back to the hospital, something on the sidewalk caught my eye. I bent down and picked up two rolled-up bills. Outside was a single, and inside of it was a fifty. “What an unusual combination,” I thought.

Arriving back at the ICU, I was grateful, but hardly surprised, to learn that the crisis was over and Dad would fully recover. It was not until that evening that I realized the significance of the amount of the bills. 1951 was the year Peter was born.
-Marion Brenish, San Diego, California

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