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Tale of Two Little Black Books

One black book was stolen two decades ago and returned with an unexpected reward.

By Margaret MinnicksPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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When I was in college back in the 1960s, my roommate and I got along just fine at the beginning of our freshman year. After Louise met other girls on campus, she began making fun of me. She criticized me because I was always studying and refused to go out with her and her friends.

Both of us were English majors. Therefore, I was disappointed that Louise refused to study with me since we were in some of the same classes. Even though her attitude had changed toward me, I never stopped being kind to her. Since my aspiration was to become an accomplished writer, I kept myself busy by studying and write inspirational thoughts in a little black book. I hoped to publish those thoughts one day in a motivational book.

I collected quotes from my professors and wrote down words from the poets we studied. At the end of my freshman year, I could not find the little black book with all my words of wisdom. When I shared the news with Louise that I couldn't find my book, she offered to help me search for it in our room. We searched for hours, but we could not find my little black book. We looked every place, but the book was not there.

Louise suggested that it was a hopeless case, and we should just stop looking. It was about time for us to leave campus for the summer. Before we departed, I asked Louise one last question. "Louise, do you think my book was stolen." I thought she would be offended. Strangely, she wasn't. She merely asked, "Madge, who do you think would steal your book? Your thoughts are your thoughts that might not appeal to anyone else." What she said made sense, but I still wanted my book.

Years Later

During the years after graduation, I would see articles in magazines and newspapers with words and phrases that were familiar. They appeared to be very similar to what I had written in my little black book. The thought crossed my mind that someone had stolen my book and was publishing what I had written. I wondered if Louise had stolen my book and was using my words as hers. However, there was no way to prove it. So, I just let it go.

Unexpected News

It was twenty years after we graduated and I still had no idea where my little black book was. After I read in the newspaper that Louise had died of breast cancer, I attended her funeral to pay my respects to her husband and two children.

Louise's husband Edward recognized me at the cemetery and asked if he could meet with him the next day. I wondered why he wanted a meeting with me so soon after his wife's funeral. I was curious, but I forced myself to be patient.

Problem Solved

Without beating around the bush when we met, Edward brought up the subject of my missing book. He said he knew the story long ago but had said nothing to protect his wife. He admitted that Louise had stolen my book and had submitted many articles under a pen name. He said she never spent any of the money because they didn't need it. He rationalized that Louise didn't steal the book to make a profit from it. He said Louise stole the book because she was jealous of me and my dedication to writing a motivational book. Edward apologized and said he felt guilty about the injustice that his wife had done to me.

Making Amends

Edward opened his attache case and handed me my book that I had not seen in a very long time. He said, "I believe this is yours." Then he corrected himself and said, "I know this little black book belongs to you." As tears rolled from my eyes, I stretched out my hand, accepted my book, and held it close to my heart.

Edward said Louise had a separate checking account for royalties from the articles that were published. He said he would transfer the account into my name and make sure future royalties would be given to me. I was curious about the amount of money that was in the account.

Then Ed handed me another little black book that I had never seen. It was a bank book. Instead of telling me the amount that was in the account, he turned to the last page and showed me. Along with the royalties checks from several publications and the interest from the bank, the total was $375,000. Ed reassured me that the royalties would continue to come and they would be all mine.

Bank Book/Photo via Shutterstock

I accepted Edward's apology for what Louise had done. I walked away from the meeting thinking about the tale of the two black books: my book of personal thoughts and the bank book. According to William Shakespeare's play, All's Well That Ends Well.

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About the Creator

Margaret Minnicks

Margaret Minnicks shares articles with readers all over the world. Topics include celebrities, royal family, movies, television, foods, drinks, health issues, and other interesting things. Thanks in advance for TIPS that are sent my way.

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