Of course, she wasn't really my aunt and, out of fear, I never called her that to her face. I only referred to her as "My Aunt Fannie" because the name always made my father laugh quietly and gave my mother cause to look strictly at both of us—at me for being disrespectful of my elder and at my father for encouraging my bad behavior. I enjoyed both reactions, so I looked for every opportunity to work the name into as many conversations as possible.
As a young woman, my mother worked in the kitchen of a large Victorian farmhouse. During those years, my mother helped Aunt Fannie make the best blueberry jam ever tasted by anyone in Glenfield. She was wellknown for her jam and for never sharing the recipe with others. Even though my mother knew the recipe by heart, as long as Aunt Fannie was alive, she never made the jam without Aunt Fannie in the kitchen.
Each August, my mother would prepare me for Aunt Fannie's visit. One year, after I had helped with the jam process, Aunt Fannie gave me a coin and then made me promise that I would never spend it. "Hold onto this coin，" she said, "and someday you will be rich. I still have my very first coin, given to me by my grandmother." So, I kept the coin in a small box and waited to become rich.
I now have the blueberry jam recipe and the coin from Aunt Fannie. In people's eyes Aunt Fannie's success resulted from that secret recipe. But to me, it was just a common recipe. Neither have made me become a rich person, but I keep them as reminders to hold onto the valuable things in life. Money can make you feel rich for a while, but it is the relationships and the memories of time spent with friends and family that truly leave you wealthy. And that is a fortune that anyone can build.
