Totally unexpected:  the letter that came in today's mail delivery.

The one with the ten one hundred dollar bills attached to it.

'I know things have been rough for you and your husband,' it said.  'I'm sure you can put this to good use.'

Could I ever.

My husband had lost his job after fifteen dedicated years to his company.  Nothing against him, they said, outsourcing, you know.  Cutbacks.

We were on the brink of losing our apartment for non-payment of rent.  I begged the landlord to understand.  She said she had to follow the rules.  What if she gave breaks to all who had hard luck stories?  

My medical bills.  Food.  Groceries.  Utilities.  And on and on.

It was decide to pay this this month and hope to God you could catch up in a month.  Or skip that this month and get groceries.

No family to help.  What friends I had left a long time ago.

We were about to be homeless.  Any day now, I expected eviction papers.  I'd been packing, just in case.

Until today.  My husband got a call from another company who liked him at the interview and wanted to hire him starting immediately.  He was their man.  They made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

More money.  Better hours and benefits.

And, the letter.  Mean, the money was an answer to prayer, but the letter:  unexpected, like I said, but what was even more amazing was who it was from.

My landlord.