Katie Bell and the

Wishing Well

A Story of Finding True Wealth

Copyright © 2018 Nephi Zufelt All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic

or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018910199

ISBN-13: 978-1-7326035-0-9 ISBN-10: 1-7326035-0-9

Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-7326035-1-6

Edited by: Elizabeth Zufelt Illustrations created by: Devika Joglekar Cover Design by: Rocío Martín Osuna

Printed in the United States of America

Published by: Wealth Mentality Families

Pocatello ID, 83201

Visit us at http://www.wealthmentalityfamilies.com Facebook @wealthmentalityfamilies

To Zoe, Ainsley, Keller, Melina, and Stratton. It all started for them.

Prologue ................................................................................................................ 1

1 - Katie Bell Starts Her Tale ............................................................................. 3

2 - Advice from Mom and Dad ...................................................................... 10

3 - On Time on a Dime .................................................................................... 19

4 - Hard Work .................................................................................................... 25

5 - The Farm ...................................................................................................... 32

6 - Rosie and Junior .......................................................................................... 43

7 - The Wishing Well ........................................................................................ 54

8 - I Want… ......................................................................................................... 61

9 - The Refreshing Wave .................................................................................. 67

10 - Wishes Do Come True ............................................................................. 76

11 - Choices ........................................................................................................ 87

12 - Coming Clean .......................................................................................... 101

13 - Back to the Farm ..................................................................................... 112

14 - The Carnival ............................................................................................. 123

15 - Waterfall .................................................................................................... 141

16 - Lemon Cupcakes ..................................................................................... 159

17 - Stories ........................................................................................................ 175

18 - The Water Barrel ..................................................................................... 184

19 - Playing Games ......................................................................................... 194

Contents

20 - Finding Purpose....................................................................................... 215

21 - Mending Fences ....................................................................................... 227

22 - Going to Court ........................................................................................ 238

23 - A New Direction ..................................................................................... 256

Epilogue ............................................................................................................ 267

Index of Key Ideas .......................................................................................... 270

For parents ....................................................................................................... 272

About the Author ............................................................................................ 280

A Story of Finding True Wealth | 1

My name is Katie Talula Bell, and I want to be rich. I was named Katie after my Father’s great aunt, and Talula after an

English actress my mother liked. I’m pretty sure no one else in the world has heard of her, but Mom loved the movie Pride and Prejudice, and Talula Riley—whoever she is—played one of the main characters, so the name stuck.

I guess as far as names go, Katie Talula isn’t too bad. Better than the name my best friend Sarah was doomed to live with. Apparently, her mother loved old romantic films and British actresses as well. Unfortunately for Sarah, her mom’s obsession resulted in the name Googie Sarah Franklin. It’s hard to imagine why mothers and fathers would give their children names like Googie and Talula, but I’m living proof of the horror that can occur when film-obsessed parents run unchecked.

Sarah says she wants to be rich, too, but she’s not too worried about it. For me, getting rich is practically all I think about. It even came up at a Sunday dinner last month. Mom’s sister, Aunt Janine, was over and had asked an innocent question: "Katie, dear, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

I am sure my mother expected me to say something like veterinarian or nurse, but my answer made Mom drop her jaw in disbelief.

"I want to be rich," I had said matter-of-factly. Mom looked shocked. “Ha, ha, very funny, that’s not what she meant and

you know it.” Aunt Janine covered her mouth to try to hide her laughter. “But I do want to be rich,” I insisted. Mom just looked at Aunt Janine and they both shook their heads. It’s kind of hard to be a kid who’s serious about wanting to be rich. If you

pay attention, you start to see that kids aren’t supposed to want to be rich, or at least they aren’t supposed to say that to other people. I find it funny how

Prologue

2 | Katie Bell and the Wishing Well

Mom and Dad often talk about wanting to have more money so they can buy a different house, a nicer car, and the boat Dad has been dreaming about, but if the topic ever comes up with friends or family, they say everything is just the way they want it to be. As if wanting more money is a crime. And of course, they never actually mention the word money. Instead, they say things like, “We just want more family time,” or “a better quality of life.” But when we’re home, I hear them say they believe having more money would make them happier.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out why it’s so wrong for a kid to want to be rich. It seems like just the opposite should be true. Wouldn’t being rich be a good thing? If it's okay for adults to want to be rich, then why not kids? And the craziest thing of all, why can’t we talk about money and being rich with other people?

Money seems to make people act in bizarre ways, and I didn’t think I’d ever understand it. At least, I didn’t think so until the day I found the well. On a sunny and bright summer afternoon, a simple wish gave me everything I thought I ever wanted. That turned out to be the wackiest, most difficult, exciting time of my young life. In all of the craziness, I would come to find out having exactly what you want is not always what you need, and there is a huge difference between being rich and being happy.

A Story of Finding True Wealth | 3

I watched my best friend, Sarah, run across the schoolyard toward the bus drop-off. Her long legs carried her swiftly past the other students and right to the front of the line, where she waited for me to get off. It was the first day after spring break and I was dreading being back in school. Sarah was panting and out of breath when I stepped out of the bus onto the pavement.

“Have…you…seen…her…yet?” she asked between gasps of air. I glanced around, not knowing what I was looking for. “Seen who?” I asked. “Come on, follow me,” she said excitedly and then turned and ran back

across the parking lot toward the north side of the brown brick school building. Nothing exciting ever happened at Peabody Middle School, so she had my attention. I ran after her, trying to keep up, but my shorter legs were no match for Sarah’s long stride.

“Slow down,” I called out as she disappeared several paces ahead of me around the main building.

I rounded the corner to find Sarah waiting for me. She held up her hand, forcing me to stop in front of her. “Are you sure you want to see this?” she asked.

I had no idea what I was supposed to see, so I just nodded my head and tried to look over her shoulder. Sarah’s black, frizzy hair was sticking straight out, as usual, and I had to lean to one side to see past her. From this odd angle, I could see a group of kids whispering and huddled around someone who was talking loudly. I thought I recognized the voice and immediately straightened up so I could look Sarah in the face.

“Is that who I think it is?” I asked.

1 - Katie Bell Starts Her Tale

4 | Katie Bell and the Wishing Well

“Come and see,” Sarah whispered, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the circle.

As we approached, my suspicion was confirmed and I stopped dead in my tracks. I didn’t want to get any closer. Molly Morgan stood in the middle of the crowd, talking excitedly.

“What is she doing?” I asked. “You have to see it,” Sarah said, continuing to pull me toward the circle

of kids. I set my feet and pulled back hard, locking us in a tug-of-war. Sarah was not giving up. Pulling harder, she dragged me along the concrete walk. It was a losing battle, so I relented and let her lead me to the edge of the crowd.

I wasn’t afraid of Molly; it’s not like she was some ghost in the attic. She wasn’t even an intimidating person, but I’m pretty sure she was pure evil. I would know; she used to be my best friend.

Molly and I had been friends since the first day of kindergarten, when we met on the bus to school. Molly had green eyes and wavy, bright red-orange hair and covering her face were freckles that stood out like flecks of sand on a white tablecloth. I once noticed, if I kind of squinted, the freckles on the left side of her face formed the shape of Australia. No one would ever mistake us as sisters, with me and my straight brown hair, brown eyes, and olive complexion.

On the bus that first day, Tom Sievers had noticed the freckles and decided to make fun of Molly. The teasing went on until I accidentally punched him in the nose. Okay, it wasn’t really an accident—it was only an accident I hit his nose. I had actually been aiming for his eye, but missed, and cracked him in the nose instead. It wasn’t very fun getting in trouble on my first day of kindergarten, but the punch had worked. Tom never again teased Molly or me, or at least not when he was within reach of my right hook. Molly and I were inseparable from that moment on.

Molly’s mom had named her something sensible after her great-grandmother. Molly Lou Morgan was fun to be around, and I loved every moment of our time together.

Our friendship had been perfect until we started 7th grade. At first, I didn’t notice we weren’t hanging out as much, but as the school year progressed, I started to see her less and less. After a while it seemed like she was avoiding me. If I started talking to her, she would answer my questions in short snippets and then walk away quickly. I didn’t know why she was suddenly avoiding me, but my guess was it had something to do with the fact

A Story of Finding True Wealth | 5

that her red hair and freckles had gone from being awful to being lovely. Everyone—including Molly—knew she was beautiful, and I no longer seemed to fit in with her new friends.

By the time we got back from Thanksgiving break that year, Molly was no longer ignoring me, but had started actively attacking me with her new friends. I once passed her and a few other popular girls in the hall and I heard Molly whispering, “Did you know her mom buys all of her clothes at the thrift store?”

The other girls sniggered and one of them said a little louder, “No wonder she looks like she belongs in some museum. Is she, like, poor or something?”

I walked a little faster and acted like I hadn’t heard anything. I was almost out of range of their whispers when I heard Molly say, in a much louder voice, “Oh, yeah, you should see her house, they are really poor.” I turned the corner and headed for the bathroom to hide. The teasing and cruel words had started so quickly, and become so personal, I was totally unprepared to deal with them. It was like the enemy had a spy among my troops and they knew all of the weaknesses in my defenses. Molly knew how to hurt me in the most painful ways. I was afraid the teasing would go on forever, and it probably would have if it hadn’t been for Sarah.

Sarah moved into town early in December that year. Suddenly Molly and the other girls had a new victim and they were on her like a pack of rabid dogs. They pretty much forgot about making fun of me and turned all of their attention to the new girl. Sarah’s taller than the rest of us and wears large, horn-rimmed glasses. Her hair is black and curly and totally out of control. No matter what she does or how much hair product she uses, it stands out in all directions. She was an easy target, and Molly and her gang didn’t pass up any opportunity to tease her. I had watched them bring Sarah to tears several times in the first few weeks she was in school.

The day before our Christmas vacation started, I was walking down the hall toward my third-period class when I saw Molly and her group of friends. I slowed down and pretended to stop at the drinking fountain in hopes that they would all go to their classes before I had to walk past. Straightening up from the fountain, I noticed the girls weren’t looking at me. Instead, they all seemed to be looking at something on the ground. Walking a little closer, I saw there were books and papers scattered all over and Sarah was frantically trying to pick them up in an effort to get away from the taunting of the girls.

6 | Katie Bell and the Wishing Well

“You know, it would be a lot easier to walk if you didn’t wear shoes stolen from Bozo the clown,” I heard one of the girls saying.

The girls in the circle were laughing hysterically. In a group like this one, you didn’t have to be funny to get a good laugh.

I lowered my head and avoided looking at anyone, hoping no one would notice me walking by. I was just about past them when I heard another girl say, “At least she has that nasty mop of hair on top of her head to prevent injuries when she falls. Where did you buy that ugly, black hair helmet? I might want one to protect myself if I ever decide to take up rock climbing.”

I saw Sarah’s face clearly through the crowd, and this last comment seemed to hit its mark. Her eyes filled with tears and she let out a low sob. She sat down and stopped picking up the mess from the ground. Like sharks smelling blood, the girls in the circle were going in for the kill.

It wasn’t rational, but seeing Sarah in such pain—and remembering the pain that had been inflicted on me by the cruel words of these girls—seemed to unleash something inside of me. I turned on my heel and charged straight through the circle of kids that had gathered around to watch. Pushing through to the front, I looked Sarah in the eyes and nodded my head. She took my outstretched hand and I hauled her to her feet. I was gathering up her books and papers when the girls finally realized what was happening.

“Oh, look, the little poor girl has come to help the clown,” one of the girls said venomously. I stood up and spun around to face the bully. I still held one of Sarah’s books in my hand and I must have looked pretty scary, because Rose Butler tried to quickly get away from me but tripped. She stumbled backward and landed heavily on her backside with a loud thump. Her face filled with pain and she rolled onto her side with a groan. The other girls in the circle just stared at me for a second and saw the crazed look in my eyes—and the book held high in the air—and decided they didn’t want to be there anymore. One of the girls helped Rose stand up and then they all disappeared in different directions to go to their classes.

That had been several months earlier, but they had left Sarah and me alone since then. We became the best of friends. Now, here I stood with Sarah, watching Molly talking excitedly to a large group of 7th and 8th graders. I only looked at her for a moment when my eyes landed on what had

A Story of Finding True Wealth | 7

grabbed everyone’s attention. Next to Molly stood a brand-new Zuma 50F scooter.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She actually had the scooter. My mind flashed back to the first time Molly and I had passed by the Yamaha dealership in town and I had stuck my head up against the glass.

“What’re you doing?” Molly asked as she turned around to watch me. “I thought we were going to get ice cream.”

She walked back to the window. “What are you looking at?” I couldn’t take my eyes off of the Zuma scooter inside. “There it is,” I said without looking at her, “the one I have been looking

at in my brother’s magazine.”

8 | Katie Bell and the Wishing Well

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Molly said as she grabbed my arm and ushered me onward. “It’s just some ugly, fake motorcycle.”

“Do you know what we could do with a scooter?” I asked as we walked down the street. “We aren’t old enough to drive a car, but there are no age limits on vehicles below a certain size.”

Molly just kept walking. “What’re you saying, that we could take a scooter on the streets anywhere in the city?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I said excitedly. “We could do anything with that scooter.”

“You’re crazy, you have to have a driver’s license to drive on the street.” Molly replied.

I shook my head vigorously, “Nope, I have been researching this for over a year. We live in one of the few states where even a kid can ride a scooter on city streets as long as they stay off the highways and interstates.”

“Are you being serious? Could we really drive on the streets?” I nodded my head. Molly seemed to be catching on now. “How much would something like

that cost?” “Too much for me,” I said in despair. “A new one is around $3,000.” “Wow, $3,000 for a scooter? That seems insane,” Molly said. My eyes were still looking back at the window of the dealer, “Not insane,

just expensive…” “Katie…Katie…Earth to Katie…” My eyes focused and I was back in the school yard, staring into Molly’s

face. “The bell rang…are you going to class?” she asked with a smirk on her

face. I looked around and noticed that the two of us were the only ones left

standing outside the school. All of the other kids had gone to their first-period class. I wondered why Sarah hadn’t pulled me out of my daydream.

“So…what do you think?” Molly asked, stepping to one side so I could see her scooter.

“About what?” I asked, pretending not to notice. “My new scooter, silly,” Molly said in her most innocent voice. “Did you

know you can ride a scooter anywhere in the city limits?”

A Story of Finding True Wealth | 9

“Yeah…I think I heard that somewhere,” I answered with all of the control I could muster in my voice. What I really wanted to say was “Yes, I told you that and now you have my scooter. How could you do this, you evil witch?”

Molly was talking again, but I didn’t hear the rest of what she said. I had already started walking toward my first-hour class. I faintly heard her yell at me about being a space case, but I just ignored her. My mind was racing. How could she have my scooter? That was my dream, not hers. She hadn’t even known about the scooter laws until I told her. Now she would be the one cruising around town, going to her friends’ houses without having to wait for her mom to give her a ride. She could go to the basketball and baseball games at the high school without begging her older sister to take her. To make matters even worse, I knew she would be rubbing it in my face every step of the way.

As I walked into homeroom, I immediately found Sarah and sat down in my seat.

“How could she do this to me?” I asked, barely holding back the tears now. “She knew that it was my dream and now she’s just flaunting it in my face.”

“I heard her mom bought it for getting good grades last quarter,” Sarah replied. “You don’t think she asked for it just to make you mad, do you?”

“I don’t know,” I said without conviction. “I really don’t know.” I knew Molly and I had our differences this last school year, but I could

not imagine she would do something like this just to upset me. It was more likely she realized how great it would be to have a scooter and simply made the decision to ask for one. That still didn’t make me feel any better. The reality was this: she had a scooter and I didn’t, and my parents would never be able to buy me one. In fact, I was pretty sure even if they did have the money, they wouldn’t buy me such an expensive gift.

As I sat in class that day, I wondered—for the first time in my life—if my parents really were poor. It hit me hard that if I wanted a scooter, I would have to buy one myself. Somehow, I would need to be rich. Only one problem: I had no idea how to do that.