<p>I was almost a 7-year-old hobo.</p><p>Nearly 50 years ago, while awaiting the start of my second-grade reading class, I noticed a dollar bill sitting along the crack between my desk and the desk of a classmate sitting next to me. Over the next few minutes, as students filed into the classroom, that lonely dollar bill just sat there unnoticed and undisturbed.</p><p>It was the start of my most vivid childhood memory — and my most impactful childhood lesson.</p><p>I’d glance at that dollar bill every few seconds thinking, “is somebody going to pick up this thing?” I couldn’t resist any longer. Figuring the dollar bill didn’t belong to my classmate since he hadn’t grabbed it, I did.