For months, I thought my neighbor’s teenagers were the most responsible kids in town. Every Sunday morning, Becky and Sam were out sweeping sidewalks, bagging trash, and making the street sparkle. I even told their mom, Grace, how proud she must be. She just gave me a polite smile.One Sunday, I spotted Sam crouching by the big oak in my yard, sweeping leaves aside and tucking something under a bush.
When they left, curiosity got the better of me. I found not trash—but coins. Quarters, dimes, even pennies, hidden under leaves and in sidewalk cracks. By the time I was done searching, I had nearly five dollars.Later, I caught Grace unloading groceries and asked about their “cleaning.” She burst out laughing.
“Oh, they’re not cleaning! Their grandpa hides coins around the neighborhood every Sunday. It’s their treasure hunt.”I stood there stunned, then started laughing too. “So all this time, I thought they were model citizens, and they were just playing pirates?”Grace grinned. “Pretty much.”I held out the coins I’d found. “Looks like I stole their loot.”She laughed.
“I’ll let them know. They’ll think it’s hilarious.”As I walked home, I realized maybe they were doing some good after all—keeping Grandpa entertained, getting fresh air, and giving the neighbors something to smile about. Next Sunday, I decided, I’d skip the detective work and just enjoy the show.