Desert Land becomes a Condo

There was a time in America when banks were eager to lend money and people were eager to buy real estate. This was in the early 2000s. Banks made money through loans, and homeowners made money as property values climbed. Everyone seemed happy.

Around that time, a construction boom was sweeping through Arizona, where I lived. Through a friend, I bought a five-acre parcel of land. To my surprise, I sold it less than six months later and made a handsome profit.

Human beings are remarkably simple creatures. Once we taste success, we want to taste it again.

So I bought another piece of land. Once again, I sold it a few months later and made an excellent return. After a lifetime of earning money through hard work, I had discovered a new world called investing. It felt as if I had learned a magic trick—money making more money.

Then one day, while I was traveling in Canada for vacation, a real estate agent called me.

“I've got a great opportunity,” he said. “Eighty acres for $880,000.”

Without even seeing the property, I signed the contract. At the time, I believed that every piece of land in America would eventually go up in value.

But something strange happened.

One year passed, and it didn't sell.

Two years passed, and it still didn't sell.

Five years passed, and there was still no buyer.

That was when I realized the magician's spell had ended.

Before I knew it, twenty years had gone by.

I paid property taxes every year and gradually forgot the land even existed. Perhaps the land forgot about me as well.

Money, I have learned, seems to have a personality of its own. It clings to some people and runs away from others. In one person's hands it becomes a flower; in another's, it turns into smoke.

One day I mentioned this troublesome piece of land to my daughter.

She smiled and said, “Dad, let me see what I can do.”

A few weeks later she called back.

“There's someone interested. They'll pay One hundred thousand dollars $100,000.”

I could hardly believe my ears.

The land that had sat motionless for twenty years was finally sold.

The relief felt like a toothache that had suddenly disappeared after years of pain.

Since I had recovered at least a little money from something I had nearly written off, my wife and I gladly gave our daughter a $10,000 finder's fee. She was delighted, and so were we.

But the story doesn't end there.

About that same time, a condominium became available in the Tower where we live. It had two bedrooms and two bathrooms exactly same model we are living in. The asking price was, quite amazingly, exactly $100,000.

The children of the previous owners, who had passed away, were living on the East Coast and wanted to sell the property quickly.

And just like that, the forgotten Arizona wasteland that had lingered in my life for twenty years transformed itself into a comfortable home in Laguna Woods.

Money is a curious thing.

The harder you chase it, the faster it seems to run away. But when you stop thinking about it, it sometimes sneaks back into your life when you least expect it.

Winners laugh.

But life does not reserve laughter only for winners.

If you wait patiently long enough, even losers are granted a day to smile.

Looking back, I realize that I was never really chasing money.

Instead, I was learning the lessons that money was trying to teach me about life.

Winners laugh, but if you live long enough, losers get their turn to laugh too.