Part 2: My millionaire husband left me nothing in his will after 48 years of marriage except a note with an address — when I arrived there, what I saw made me fall to my knees.

There were classrooms for adults returning to education.

A kitchen for community meals.

Offices for counselors and social workers.

And a small courtyard filled with benches and flowers.

We partnered with established local organizations to provide tutoring, job training, family support, and services for young people transitioning out of foster care.

I wanted people to have somewhere to go.

Not merely to receive assistance.

But to feel welcome.

To be treated with dignity.

To discover they mattered.

We called it:

THE EXTRA CHAIR HOUSE

And above the entrance, carved into wood, were the words:

If there's room at the table, there's room for one more.

Three weeks before our opening ceremony, Mr. Harrison called.

“Margaret, there's something I need to give you.”

I laughed.

“Arthur, if you tell me it's another envelope, I may scream.”

He chuckled.

“It is another envelope.”

I sighed dramatically.

“Thomas really should have started a stationery company.”