During my darkest stretch inside, there was an inmate who made one phone call every Sunday — always the same time, always to the same person.
It wasn’t family. It wasn’t friends.
It was his wife. She was making tiny investments on his behalf, $25 at a time, based on the notes he slipped her during visits.
I asked him why he bothered.
He said, “Because walls can hold your body, not your future.”
When he got out, he had more saved than most people I knew on the outside.
Lesson: You’re not defined by where you are — but by what you keep building despite it.
Forward motion is wealth.