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id。 Twenty five cents an hour would be big bucks to me。

〃OK; I'll pay you a dollar an hour;〃 rich dad said; with a sly grin。

Now my heart was beginning to race。 My brain was screaming;

An

〃Take it。 Take it。〃 I could not believe what I was hearing。 Still; I said nothing。

〃OK; 2 an hour。〃

My little 9…year…old brain and heart nearly exploded。 After all; it was 1956 and being paid 2 an hour would have made me the richest kid in the world。 I couldn't imagine earning that kind of money。 I wanted to say 〃yes。〃 I wanted the deal。 I could see a new bicycle; new baseball glove; and adoration of my friends when I flashed some cash。 On top of that; Jimmy and his rich friends could never call me poor again。 But somehow my mouth stayed silent。

Maybe my brain had overheated and blown a fuse。 But deep down; I badly wanted that 2 an hour。

The ice cream had melted and was running down my hand。 The ice…cream stick was empty; and under it was a sticky mess of vanilla and chocolate that ants were enjoying。 Rich dad was looking at two boys staring back at him; eyes wide open and brains empty。 He knew he was testing us; and he knew there was a part of our emotions that wanted to take the deal。 He knew that each human being has a weak and needy part of their soul that can be bought。 And he knew that each human being also had a part of their soul that was strong and filled with a resolve that could never be bought。 It was only a question of whic

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