For my wedding, my grandmother gave me her old, damaged sofa. My spouse did not want it in our “modern home.” 11 years later, we divorced. I moved out and sent the sofa to be repaired.

The repairman was taken aback when he saw it—he claimed it was ancient and would require a lot of work. I assured him there was no rush. The next day, he called me in a panic: “Come fast!”

Inside the sofa, there were heaps of money, some gold coins, and a message from my grandmother: “These are for your toughest times. I believe you’ll find them when you’re supposed to.” She never approved of my marriage and must have known I’d need aid someday. Even after her death, she found a way to protect me when I most needed it.