A forgotten $5 bill, kept for decades, carried more than monetary value. When it was quietly returned to the Polynesian Cultural Center, it revealed a promise, a love story, and a meaning far deeper than anyone expected.

A late night, a crowded courtyard, and an unexpected poke stopped everything. What a 92-year-old grandmother whispered next—followed by a raised cane and contagious laughter—left a lesson that stayed long after the night ended.

In the early 1960s as a missionary in Sāmata, Savai‘i, I once joined a high chief for breakfast, served *sua pusi*—moray eel cooked in coconut milk. A guest refused to eat, noting that not even flies would land on it. Later that day, a truckload of villagers was rushed to the hospital with food poisoning from that same eel. My companion and I, protected by the Lord’s promise, felt no sickness at all. I’ve never eaten eel again.